University of California Les Amis
by synchronysymphony
Summary: Or the UCLA university chorus AU that no one asked for (various cw; I'll tell you if there's something trigger-y)
1. Intro

/notes at end/

/**

"Javert's doing _what_ now?"

"He's cutting our funding, Courf," sighed Enjolras wearily, wishing his friend weren't quite so loud. All this noise wasn't really helping his headache.

"But he can't _do_ that," protested Courfeyrac, slamming his fist on the table and making the dishes jump. "That's _illegal_!"

"Unfortunately, it's not," put in Combeferre, looking up from his salad with a forlorn expression. "The university charter clearly states that if a group has a substantial lack of funding and lack of a quote-unquote 'purpose,' it can be disbanded by the administration at any time."

"But we have a purpose!" wailed Courfeyrac. "We spread happiness to the world through music! Is there anything nobler than that?"

"We've never been to a competition, and we never have performances," Combeferre pointed out. "And you can't deny that we have exactly zero dollars in our group's treasury. Technically speaking, Javert is perfectly within his rights to do this."

Courfeyrac pouted, and protested that this wasn't true, but Enjolras could see that even he knew a losing battle when he saw it. Without funding, and without enough members to even register for a regional competition, their group had no chance of survival.

/

Enjolras, Courfeyrac, and Combeferre were all members of a small vocal group, fancifully named Les Amis de l'ABC, which had probably stood for something at some point, but the previous members had graduated without divulging it, and now everyone just assumed it was an homage to the first three letters of the musical alphabet. At the moment, there were only eleven members, if the accompanist counted (and most people were unsure he did), and no matter how enthusiastic they were, the rules clearly prohibited them from entering any sort of event. It was unfortunate that this was the case, because although the group may have lacked something in the way of quantity, it more than made up for it in the beautiful blending of all the voices in the group. Courfeyrac, who was prone to such sentiments, was often wont to exclaim that it was the strength of their friendship which bound them together and gave them such a delightful sound. Enjolras laughed at this, but there was no way he could disagree, because it was certainly true that they were all the best of friends.

Now, though, they had a problem. Javert, an administrator for the school and the bane of Enjolras's existence, had apparently taken the time to comb through the (fairly extensive) university rulebook, and had found the perfect way to get the group disbanded. Enjolras was fairly certain that this wasn't solely because of him and his troublemaking– Javert adhered almost religiously to every rule he could find, ever– but he couldn't help but feel that if he hadn't done so much to get on the man's bad side, the group could have flown under the radar for awhile yet. Maybe they all could have graduated before anyone caught on. He knew his friends didn't blame him, but he also knew exactly how much the group meant to all of them, and he had decided that he would never forgive himself if he didn't fight his hardest to keep them from going down. It was with all this churning through his mind that he made his way to the room where they were meeting and stepped inside. This wasn't going to be the last meeting of the ABC, not if he had anything to say about it.

/

"Look who just came in!" called Gavroche as soon as Enjolras stepped inside. "Your boooooyyfriend's here, Grantaire!" Enjolras stuttered something completely unhelpful, and turned to Eponine, hoping she could shut her brother up before he said anything else. It wasn't that he was embarrassed about liking Grantaire, it was just that he didn't want anyone to talk about it. Or think about it. Or know about it in any way. Okay, so maybe he was embarrassed. But what was he supposed to do? The man was all kinds of interesting and popular; there was no way he'd be interested in someone so… what was the term he'd used? _Aggressively prosaic_ , that was it. Enjolras sighed. There was approximately zero percent chance that they'd ever be anything more than friends.

"Hey boyfriend." Oh no. Enjolras looked up to see Grantaire grinning at him and promptly felt his face heat up. "I like your hair today," continued Grantaire, reaching out to twirl a curl around his finger. "Very cute. You always look so put together."

"Um, I, ah…" Damn it. Why couldn't he think of anything to say? He had a reputation to maintain, after all. But here was Grantaire, standing so close to him, and still smiling that wonderful crooked smile. Involuntarily, he took a step closer, and was greeted by a whiff of acrylic paint, coffee, and detergent, a combination that shouldn't have worked, but somehow did. "You smell good," he blurted out, then immediately cursed in his head. He was such an idiot. Was the situation irreparably awkward now? Grantaire seemed to think so. His hand dropped from Enjolras's hair to his shoulder, where he played with the folds of his jacket, as if not knowing what to say. If he hadn't been haranguing himself for being an awkward dork, Enjolras would have rather enjoyed this, the light pressure of Grantaire's hand, the curious expression on his face, and especially the fact that they were within a foot of each other now, within even the strictest social scientist's definition of the intimate zone. But all this was overshadowed by the fact that Grantaire, usually so quick-witted, still seemed to feel so uncomfortable that he didn't know what to say.

"I…" he began.

"Hey, you two!" came Courfeyrac's raucous shout from across the room. "Either kiss already, or get over here! We need to get this show on the road!" Enjolras blushed again, and hurried over to sit next his friend, while Grantaire made his way to the chair beside Combeferre, grinning rakishly. Eponine wiggled her eyebrows and started to say something, but Marius, whose obliviousness and poor sense of timing were welcome for once, spoke first.

"So, let's start this thing! Our last rehearsal together!" This proclamation was greeted by a chorus of outraged voices telling him not to let the man get him down, and at least one "fight me."

"Hey, man," said Joly. "Don't worry, everything's going to work out. They can't beat us! We're going to be back up in no time. Isn't that right, y'all?" Enjolras wasn't sure which was more misplaced, Joly's optimism, or his deliberately casual use of "y'all," but he didn't have the heart to contradict him. Besides, he didn't intend to go down without a fight, and it might be that everything would in fact work out according to the other boy's sunny prediction.

"Even if ABC is disbanded officially, we can still sing together," pointed out Combeferre, earning another barrage of encouraging voices, telling him that they weren't beaten yet, and if they had anything to say about it, they never would be.

"We'll be ABC no matter what," said Enjolras, and Combeferre gave him a big grin. "No one can change that, especially not Javert. I mean, he can't even change a discriminatory policy without messing it up even more. But I think Joly's right too– we're not going to let him get to us, and we're not going to let something as trivial as university policy get in our way!"

"I'm not so sure that's trivial, actually," muttered Combeferre, but everyone else burst into applause.

"You said it!" shouted Courfeyrac enthusiastically. "Guys, I'm super fired up now. Let's make a plan and make this work out!"

"I like that idea," offered Cosette shyly. "I don't know what I would do if I didn't have you guys."

"Aww," Musichetta put an arm around her. "You're going to have us anyway, you know. There's no getting rid of us." Cosette leaned her head on Musichetta's shoulder.

"I love you, Chetta."

"I love you too, princess."

"Can we get back to the part where we kick Javert's ass?" asked Courfeyrac. "I stand by my statement when I say that I'm not leaving this room until we have a solid plan!" Enjolras suppressed a groan. Knowing Courf, he would probably make sure that everyone else stayed with him too, and it might be hours before everything was settled according to his satisfaction.

"I have a test to study for," he protested feebly, but Courfeyrac, as expected, picked him up and spun him around the room.

"Don't worry!" he sang. "You're like a super genius, and you're always studying anyway! You could probably take that test right now and wreck the curve for everyone. Now be a good little genius social activist and help me make a brilliant plan for subverting authority!"

"You know there's no way I wouldn't help," Enjolras said, and it was true. There was very little he wouldn't do for his friends, and besides, the thought of subverting authority was truly tempting.

"Oh good!" Beaming, Courfeyrac gave him one last exuberant squeeze, then set him back down into his chair. "Let's get started! So, what do we need to do?"

"I think we need to look over the university charter rules for clubs of this sort again," said Combeferre. "Maybe there's something we missed that would help us."

"You say 'we' as if you assume we've all read the thing," said Grantaire. "I have no idea what's in there. Government propaganda? Impassioned pleas for more funding? Provisions for a takeover by capitalist warlords?"

"Like that hasn't happened already," Enjolras grumbled, then blushed as Grantaire laughed.

"Preach it, sunshine!"

"I found the rules here," piped up Gavroche, holding up his sister's laptop. "I hacked into the university registrar." Eponine looked at him sternly. "Okay, no I didn't. It was all legal, calm your dicks, guys." Combeferre came over and read over his shoulder, even as Eponine smacked him on the head for his language.

"Hey guys," he said. "It says here that we're supposed to attend at least two competitions per year. What are we going to do about this?"

"It's only September," said Bossuet. "It should be pretty easy to find something, right?"

"I wish." Combeferre took off his glasses and started cleaning them. "All the competitions in our area have a floor limit on the size of the groups that enter. We'd need at least four more people to even be allowed to register."

"So? That's not a problem, right? Let's just hold open auditions!"

"I guess we could," said Combeferre doubtfully. "I'm just not sure…" he trailed off, and Courfeyrac jumped in.

"There's nothing to worry about! It's a great idea. We'll go on Bruin Walk and tell everyone, and then we'll have more great musicians than we know what to do with!"

"We have to clear that with the administration first," said Combeferre, still sounding doubtful, "And I don't think they love us too much, after what happened last year."

"What happened last year?" Grantaire wanted to know. "Did Enjolras have anything to do with it?"

"Why would you think I had something to do with it?" began Enjolras, but was cut off by Courfeyrac throwing his arms around him and cooing, "Of course he did!"

"This dork," said Combeferre fondly. "Okay, so there he was, just a little freshman, right? And Courf and I were second-years, so we should have known better, but there's literally no way to stop him when he wants to do something. So we ended up helping him instead of making him know of the error of his ways."

"So!" Courfeyrac took up the story. "He found a cause for each day of the week, and every single day, he would go onto Bruin Walk and yell at people about it. Monday was the wage gap, I think, and I feel like Thursday was LGBTQ rights? And so on. Anyway, we helped him out, and we kept this up for five weeks, until somehow Javert found out, and we all got into a huge amount of trouble."

Grantaire burst into laughter. "That's so cute! And so you, sunshine! I can't believe you kept it up for five weeks. Why didn't you just get a permit?"

"I didn't know I had to," said Enjolras, a little sheepishly. "But why should I? I have constitutional rights, same as anyone else, and just because I'm using them to try and upset the oppressive social mores that have been dictating our lives and actions since the founding of this country doesn't mean that my voice should be silenced!"

"Of course, of course." Courfeyrac patted him on the head. "And don't worry, we'll get our voices out, and you can overthrow the patriarchy all you want. But right now, we have a choral group to protect, don't we?"

"We do!" Bossuet jumped up and took the floor. "And Joly and I were just talking. We think we can get permission from the administration to go out on Bruin Walk, as long as we don't mention Enjolras. So first thing tomorrow, we're going to head over to Ackerman to get a permit, and we'll be in business! Who's in favor of open auditions, say aye?"

"Aye!" It was a testament to the caliber of the ABC as a vocal ensemble that the statement came out as a major chord.

Courfeyrac punched the air. "That's everyone! We're doing this, guys! Good job you two!" He rushed over to give Bossuet and Joly a rib-crushing hug. "Daddy Courfy's proud of you!"

"Please never refer to yourself that way again," groaned Eponine. Courfeyrac grinned at her and was opening his mouth to say something else, before Combeferre jumped in.

"Okay guys, are we agreed on this? After Bossuet and Joly talk to the administration, we'll discuss this more. For now, let's focus on coming up with ideas to get more funding."

"Money? I can get you guys money," offered Gavroche, looking up from his game of Starcraft on Eponine's computer. "Probably other stuff too. Just say the word."

"Um, no." Enjolras wasn't opposed to civil disobedience, but he wasn't about to let the kid do anything blatantly illegal. "Let's think of fundraisers or something."

"That's boring," grumbled Gavroche, but went back to his game without putting up a fight. Combeferre nodded at him approvingly.

"So, who's got an idea?"

/*

By the time Grantaire got back to his apartment, it was already almost midnight. After the ABC meeting, he and Enjolras had decided to stop at Cafe 1919 for some coffee and gelato, since neither of them had a lot of studying to do that night, and they'd ended up sitting outside and talking for three hours. It hadn't felt that long, and they'd both lost track of time in a spectacular way. Grantaire hadn't been able to keep the silly grin off his face the entire walk home. What was it about that boy anyway? He'd never met anyone so completely fascinating. Seriously, Enjolras could talk to him about tax code, and he would be enraptured– a fact he knew very well, because that had happened before. There was something about his passion and enthusiasm that was infectious, and even Grantaire, who had decided long ago that he would never believe in anything, couldn't help but buy into his excitement. Besides, he was gorgeous. As an artist, Grantaire had always adored beautiful things, and Enjolras was just about the most beautiful thing in the world. With his golden curls and delicate features, he looked like an angel come to earth, and from the moment he'd first seen him, Grantaire had never been able to tear his eyes away. Grantaire sighed as he unlocked the door to his apartment. Enjolras was perfect, that's all there was to it.

He was shaken out of his reverie as soon as he came inside as his roommate launched himself forward and leapt into his arms.

"R, thank fuck you're home, okay listen, don't freak out, okay? But there may or may not be a drug deal happening in the other room, and it may or may not involve several heavily armed assassins. One of whom may or may not be my ex. The drug-dealing one." Grantaire sighed. Someday he was really going to lose it.

"Okay 'Parnasse, can you calm down for a sec? What's going on here?"

"I just told you! Babet's selling drugs in the kitchen and she has like fifty-nine guns on her, and enough heroin to supply all of the projects for a week!"

Grantaire groaned. "And why exactly is she here?"

"Well," Montparnasse jumped out of Grantaire's arms and led him over to the couch, evidently attempting to act as calm as possible. "Ep doesn't let anyone use her dorm anymore now that Gav's staying there." Grantaire wasn't convinced that this was a reasonable explanation, and was about to tell him so, when a loud crash erupted from the kitchen, as well as a screech of "Fucking commie!" Montparnasse grabbed his arm. "She's mad," he whispered.

"Yeah, I got that." Grantaire rubbed his temples. "How long has she been here?" Montparnasse looked at him with a shit-eating expression.

"About five hours?"

"Dammit 'Parnasse," sighed Grantaire. "We told you to stop letting her in here! Have those other guys been here this whole time too?"

"Um."

Grantaire groaned again. He really wasn't asking for too much here, just a little peace and quiet, and the opportunity to finish his schoolwork in peace without drug dealers and angry gang members invading his home. "All right, look," he said. "Someone's gotta break this up, and Ep's not here, so I guess it's up to us. Do you have my back?"

"Oh totally!" Montparnasse grinned at him sunnily.

"Great, you're going in first." Grantaire ignored his squeak of dismay, and pushed him towards the kitchen. "Remember, we're not letting them extort any weird favors out of us again."

"Yeah, I'm on board with that." Montparnasse looked a little green around the gills. "But can we try not to make them too mad? My nose _just_ healed."

"No complaints here." Together, Grantaire and Montparnasse edged towards the kitchen, trying not to cringe at the explosions of profanity coming from within.

"Hey, um, Babet?" Montparnasse knocked uncertainly on the doorframe. "Uh, how's it, uh, how's it going?"

"How do you think it's going, you little shit?" Babet rounded on him, all the fires of hell in her eyes. "These cunts are trying to fuck me over, and I'm not going to stand for that! Do you hear me? I'm not going to stand for that!" Poor Montparnasse turned as white as heroin.

"I h-hear you, y-yeah," he stuttered. Grantaire figured it was time he stepped in.

"No one's trying to mess with you, Babet," he said in as soothing a voice as he could manage. "We all just want what's best, all right? Why don't you tell us what's going on?"

"What's going on," shouted Babet, "Is that these pieces of shit think it's okay to bargain with me! Fucking bargain with me! Who do they think I am? You're going to pay the asking price, or I'm going to cut your stuff with drain cleaner! You hear me?" She rounded on her customers and jabbed her finger at them. "What do you think this is?"

"Okay." Grantaire cleared his throat, and Babet wheeled on him again, her expression nothing short of murderous. "Babet, I think we have a misunderstanding here. These guys would never try to bargain you down, right?" Here, he fixed them both with a steely glare, hoping desperately that their fear of Babet was worse than their hatred for outsiders. "They're going to pay the asking price, and everything will be fine." Fortunately, Babet's ability to instill fear seemed to be greater than Grantaire's ability to annoy.

"Sure," said one of the men, looking uncomfortable. "We never meant to fuck with you, Babet."

"Don't–fucking–call–me–by–my–first–name!"

"Uh, hey," Montparnasse spoke up for the first time. "You know, we've known Babet for awhile, so we know that her asking price is fair, especially for the stuff she has."

"Damn right it is," interjected Babet, but she looked a little bit mollified.

"So, it's definitely not unreasonable to pay it," continued Montparnasse. "But sometimes, people who don't have a lot of experience don't really know what's what." The two customers looked offended, but Montparnasse swept on. "So I'm pretty sure that this is all a big misunderstanding, like R said. Let's just close this deal now, okay?"

"That's all I wanted," said one of the two men, and the other one nodded. "We're sorry about this. Can we just pay your price and go?"

"My price has increased now," said Babet. "Are you sure you can afford it?"

"Yes, yes we can," the men answered at the same time. "Let's do this." Babet nodded, and after a pause, began the transaction. Grantaire and Montparnasse looked at each other. "Let's go," whispered Montparnasse. Grantaire nodded, and they crept out of the room before anyone could notice.

"Hey R," said Montparnasse, somewhat too casually, as they made their way into the living room, "How do you feel about going out tonight? Like to Westwood, at about 2:45?" Grantaire rolled his eyes.

"Listen man, I love you, but there's no way I'm helping you out with one of your skeezy Mission Impossibles tonight. I have a project to do, and it needs me more than you do."

"But R!" Montparnasse wailed, "What if I need backup?"

"Call Babet."

"That's not even remotely funny!"

"Bro, 'Parnasse, man I'm trying to graduate here. Go ask Claquesous or something, and if you come back alive, I'll buy you that weird vodka you like."

Montparnasse's eyes lit up. "Really? You'd do that for me? A whole bottle, right? Okay, I'll let you off this time. But next time you're going to be my bodyguard!"

"No I'm not," muttered Grantaire, but Montparnasse was already shuffling around looking for his shoes and coat.

"If I head out now, I can probably hit up Claquesous on the way," he said cheerfully. "And maybe I can visit Ep before Gav goes to bed. Good stuff man, good stuff!" Grantaire looked at him fondly. For someone who put so much effort into maintaining a tough demeanor, Montparnasse was surprisingly friendly and loyal with those he cared about, almost like an overgrown, drug-dealing puppy.

"Be safe out there," he said. "And if someone wants to fight, make sure you give 'em hell for me." Montparnasse beamed and held up his favorite butterfly knife.

"Will do!"

/notes/

**so I dunno if I will ever write more about it in here, but it's my theory that Grantaire is like super duper ugly, but Enjolras legitimately finds him attractive. like, it's like that one anime with the blocky dude and the sparkly girl and she has the Maximum Thirst. he thinks he's beautiful inside and out and he is So Very In Love.

cw: ft. patron minette, so there is some not very nice language

also drugs


	2. heaven help me i am a poor lost soul

how the FRICKin HECK DIDDLY do u add chapters WHAT IS THIS

do u paste

I'm so confused help me

ed: how the frick do u EDIT things I said got damn

(pls let this work)


	3. The Auditions

/I don't think there's anything bad in here, so no tw this time/

...

Combeferre found Eponine in the research library after her last class the next day. She had been trying to finish her online assignments for physics so that Gavroche could use her computer when they got back to her dorm, and was halfway through the last set when a hesitant hand on her shoulder made her jump.

"Shit 'Ferre! You scared me!"

"Sorry, sorry!" Combeferre looked both worried and penitent. "I just wasn't sure how to get your attention, and I didn't want to pull out your earphones because that would be rude, and we're in a library so I didn't want to be loud, and– " Eponine cut him off.

"Seriously, it's okay. Don't worry about it." She knew from personal experience that he was capable of going on all day if she let him. "Do you wanna sit down or something?"

"If that's okay!" His eager smile was too cute. "I was hoping we could talk about ABC! We got some stuff figured out, and I wanted to go over it with you before we all meet up to talk about it. If you have the time, that is," he added doubtfully, looking at the papers spread across the table.

"Of course," replied Eponine. If she was being honest with herself, which she had always made it a point to do, she was unreasonably flattered that he wanted to talk about this with her before telling everyone else. Having people value her opinion was still new to her, but it was pleasant, and she didn't think she would ever get tired of being treated with such deference. "I still have a couple problems to finish, though, do you mind waiting a couple minutes?"

"No problem!" Combeferre sat down at the table and smiled at her. "I have some reading to do for my abnormal psych class, so I can get started on that." Eponine smiled back. What a nerd.

"Good for you," she said. "I promise I won't make you wait too long, though."

True to her word, Eponine finished the problem set within ten minutes, and looked up to see Combeferre holding out a cardboard cup.

"I went downstairs to get some coffee, and while I was at it, I thought I'd grab you something too. I didn't know what you wanted though? So I got you a chai tea, hopefully that's okay."

"You're so sweet, bless you," laughed Eponine, taking the cup. "This is perfect." Combeferre looked pleased with himself, and a little flustered.

"Well, you know," he mumbled.

"I'm done with physics," Eponine went on, taking a sip of her tea. "Do you wanna talk about the Official ABC Business now?"

"Already? That was so fast!" Combeferre's eyes went wide. "Oh wait, I didn't mean to imply that I thought you would be slower or anything! I just, um…" Eponine laughed again.

"I didn't take it that way, you dork. Drink your coffee, let's talk."

It turned out that during the less-than 24 hours since the last ABC meeting, everyone had been busy. Combeferre reported that Musichetta, Bossuet, and Joly had indeed obtained permission from the administration to be on Bruin Walk, and somehow everything had been processed so quickly that by 10 AM, the ABC was legally handing out fliers. Eponine suspected that this had more to do with the fact that Musichetta had chosen to accompany her boyfriends on their quest than anything else, but she wasn't one to question results. From the way Combeferre described it, there was going to be a complete onslaught of prospective auditionees tomorrow.

"And you should have seen Enj," Combeferre was saying proudly. "He pulled in more people than the rest of us combined. Boys, girls, neither– everyone was lining up to talk to him. If he's not at the audition tomorrow, everyone's going to feel very lied to!"

"He will be there, right?" asked Eponine.

"Of course! He wouldn't miss something like this for anything!" Eponine grinned.

"That's what I thought."

/

That night, everyone met up at the least crowded dining hall to discuss their plans for the next day. Eponine had even managed to smuggle Gavroche in through the back entryway, and he was happily chewing away on about five pieces of pizza at once. At some point, Eponine reflected, she should probably get him to eat a salad or something. All this grease couldn't be healthy, even for a middle-school stomach. It wasn't like the others were any better, though. Courfeyrac was competing with Bossuet and Joly to see how many grilled cheeses each one could eat, and Cosette and Musichetta had finished at least three burgers apiece. Even Enjolras, who usually didn't eat much of anything, seemed intent on clearing out the entire dessert case, and wasn't paying any heed to Combeferre's attempts to stop him. Eponine was considering giving them all a lecture on healthy living and demonstrating better habits in front of the younger generation, when someone knocked violently into their table, spilling soda and fries everywhere.

"Sorry!" gasped out the offender, and no one seemed surprised to see that it was Marius. "I tripped on a breadstick!"

"It's okay," said Courfeyrac kindly. "Come sit." He patted the seat next to him, and Marius gratefully sank down.

"I didn't mean to be late," he said. "I thought we were meeting at Feast, so I went up to Rieber. But then Cosette sent me a snapchat of you guys over here, so I came running." Cosette looked up from her fourth burger and grinned.

"You're welcome!"

Marius looked at her with lovestruck eyes, and Eponine sighed without meaning to. She didn't know why the interactions between these two bothered her, really. It was true that she'd had a crush on Marius last year when they'd both been inept freshmen, but she was long over that. He was nice, sure, but he just didn't do it for her anymore, and she was perfectly content to be his friend and nothing more. So why did she feel so uncomfortable watching a romance blossom between him and Cosette? Lost in thought, she didn't notice Grantaire until he elbowed her in the side.

"What's up, Ep? You good?" Eponine shook her head to clear away the unneeded angsty thoughts.

"I'm fine," she said. "It's just those two, I…" Grantaire gave her a knowing look.

"I feel you."

"No, it's not that." How could she explain this? "I don't like him anymore, you know that."

"Yeah, I know."

"Then what?" _What am I feeling_ , she wanted to ask. _Why does my head cloud up when I see him looking at her that way?_ Grantaire raised his glass to her.

"Here's to dumb love!" he said. Eponine rolled her eyes, but lifted her glass anyway.

"Here's to hoping I figure it out one day!"

Their toast was broken when Combeferre cleared his throat and spoke up.

"Can we talk about ABC now? We need to get everything ready for tomorrow!"

"Yeah, we do!" Enjolras agreed, bouncing in his seat with enthusiasm that was probably only partly due to all the sugar he'd just consumed. "We got so many people on Bruin Walk! It was amazing! And I know we were going to do auditions at the end of the week, but so many people signed up that starting tomorrow seemed okay. Is that okay with you guys?" Everyone around the table gave their vigorous consent, except for Grantaire, who, Eponine saw, was staring at Enjolras with a goofy smile on his face. Enjolras didn't seem to notice. "Okay, great! So what do you guys want to have them do for their auditions?"

"I think it would be funny to make them sing really weird stuff," offered Courfeyrac. "Then we can test their true resolve." Cosette stuck out her tongue at him.

"Aww, that's not nice! What about the poor shy little ones?"

"Last year you were a 'little one' too," grumbled Courfeyrac, but he didn't protest. Cosette clearly had a good point. "Maybe we could pick a set song that anyone can sing if they don't have something prepared?"

"What a good idea! Courf, you're so smart!" Cosette reached across the table to grasp his hand, and Eponine tried to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach. What was going on with her lately? Maybe she should have taken 'Parnasse's offer to get drunk last night. She told herself sternly to get a grip, and spoke up.

"I think we should pick a song that everyone knows. That way, everyone's more or less on equal footing, and we can look at their interpretation and stage presence and stuff as well as their musicality."

"I agree! That's an excellent idea!" Enjolras pointed at her with a fork full of cake. "Are we thinking like The Unending Thread, or Palestrina?" Everyone stared at him.

"Bro, I hate to break it to you," said Joly, "But we couldn't say, because no one knows what those are."

"I do," said Grantaire unexpectedly, causing Enjolras to look at him intently.

"Really?"

"Yeah, I know things sometimes."

Eponine could practically see the hearts in Enjolras's eyes as he looked at Grantaire. Judging from his expression, she was probably due for another bout of venting the next day about how perfect and amazing R was, and _seriously Ep have you seen his_ _eyes_ _I'm dying how does he do it please help_. These two really were impossible. She loved them both, she really did, but sometimes they were just too ridiculous for their own good.

Combeferre coughed pointedly. "Anyway! What's a song that everyone knows?" Enjolras and Grantaire dragged their eyes away from each other and spoke at the same time.

"Bohemian Rhapsody!"

"The Piano Man!"

They looked at each other with equally round eyes, and laughed. Cosette crinkled her nose.

"Aww, babes."

Eponine rolled her eyes at them fondly and left them to bond over their old people music. It wasn't like either of them would be very useful anyway. She turned to Courfeyrac, who was probably the best authority on what was popular and what wasn't.

"Why don't we make a list?" she suggested. "If they don't have anything prepared, they can pick and choose a song out of a couple options, and that should make them feel more comfortable."

Courfeyrac clapped excitedly, and Cosette turned to her with a lovely smile. "Eponine, you're amazing! You could probably run these auditions all by yourself if you wanted to!"

"No, I just, well…" Eponine ran a hand through her hair. Why was she so flustered? "Thanks," she mumbled. "I try." Cosette gave her another high-wattage smile before turning to her phone.

"I'm going to google some well-known ballads," she said. "We'd probably want some Broadway stuff in there too, since most singers have at least a few showtunes in their back pockets. But I'll try to stay away from too-obvious character songs; we're singers, not actors."

"Speak for yourself," said Courfeyrac cheerfully. He'd been on the stage all his life, and often joked that he was going to change his major from Comparative Politics to Comparative Theatre. "Don't you think it would be fun to give them the chance to show off their acting if they want to?"

Cosette pursed her lips. "I guess that's fair. After all, if they're uncomfortable, they don't have to do it."

"Yes!" Courfeyrac made a victory fist. "Now we just have to pick the list!"

It took them nearly three hours, and the complete annoyance of the dining hall staff, but finally the ABC had compiled a list of six songs that could be used in the auditions the next day. Even Enjolras and Grantaire were satisfied, and that felt like a minor miracle in itself. Eponine wasn't the optimistic type, but she thought that this audition process might not be as much of a headache as she had been dreading. As she walked back up the hill with Gavroche, she realized that she felt happier than she had in awhile, and before she knew it, she was singing softly into the night. Gavroche looked at her, perplexed, but after awhile, he joined in. That was one of the nice things about this kid; he didn't try to stop her from being weird in public. They were still harmonizing when they arrived at her building and stepped inside.

/*

Courfeyrac almost sprinted to Kerckhoff Hall after his last class to set up for the auditions. While he knew that everyone else was excited about the afternoon's events as well, he privately thought that there was no way that anyone could match his enthusiasm. This was going to be an adventure, there was no doubt about it. He was so pumped that he couldn't resist handing out extra fliers to everyone he met as he made his way to the room that Musichetta had reserved the day before. Sure they already had a ton of people, but what was the harm in bringing in a few more? The more the merrier, that's what he always said. By the time he got to the room, all the fliers were gone, and at least five new people had said they would come audition. _Now that's how you get things done,_ he told himself with a congratulatory mental pat on the back. Singing cheerfully to himself, he began to get the room ready, setting up chairs, opening windows, and writing several encouraging messages on the whiteboard with what he hoped were erasable markers. In a few minutes, the door opened, and Combeferre came in, lugging an electric keyboard.

"Marius wanted me to bring it," he explained, in response to Courfeyrac's questioning look. "He said it would be impressive if he accompanied the auditions."

"I guess it would be," Courfeyrac replied doubtfully. "But are you sure it wouldn't just mess them up?"

Combeferre shrugged. "I guess we'll find out."

Before too long, Enjolras came in with Eponine. Judging by the weary look on her face and the distraught one on his, he was probably talking about Grantaire again. Really, that boy needed some help. It made Courfeyrac want to rethink his stance on messing with other people's love lives. He caught a scrap of conversation as the two of them made their way over:

"Seriously, have you seen his eyes? I'm about to die here!"

Eponine punched him lightly on the arm. "I promise you'll figure it out, boo boo." Before either of them could continue, Combeferre wandered up to them with an extension cord and a confused expression.

"Do any of you guys know where the outlet is for this thing?" he asked. "I've been all around the room twice, and I still haven't seen any sign of it. I'm starting to think there isn't one." Courfeyrac, Eponine, and Enjolras joined him in searching, and by the time they'd found the outlet, hidden underneath a fake piece of panelling, the rest of the ABC had arrived.

With all his friends together and ready to embark on what could very well be a life-changing quest, Courfeyrac felt that a motivational speech was in order. He jumped up onto a chair and shouted for silence, waving his arms to get everyone's attention.

"Okay, everyone!" he called. "We're about to do this thing, and we're going to do it right! And that means we need to get pumped up. Let's just have a few words, shall we?"

"Yeah!" shouted Joly. "Speech!"

Courfeyrac pointed finger guns at him. "You got it!" He jumped down off the chair and lifted Enjolras onto it instead. "Have at it, buddy!"

Enjolras looked confused, but he was never one to pass up an opportunity to give a speech, and soon he was embarked on a passionate and brilliant monologue about the importance of their endeavor, and the purpose of the ABC overall, and societal norms, and how vital it was to break the chains of oppression. He looked like he was thoroughly enjoying himself, and Courfeyrac didn't have the heart to interrupt him until he peeked out the door and saw the crowd outside waiting for their auditions. The ABC had done their work all too well; there had to be at least fifty people out there. Courfeyrac gulped.

"Uh, hey Enj," he said. "I hate to interrupt you, I really do, but maybe you should look outside." Enjolras broke off mid-rant looking grumpy.

"Courf, I was just getting to the really good part!"

"I know you were, but there's like an entire lecture hall's worth of people out there, and I'm not sure what we're going to do with them all."

"Wow! Really?" Enjolras hopped off the chair and went to look for himself. "Our advertising really worked! This is amazing!"

Courfeyrac couldn't help but smile at his friend's enthusiasm. "We'll definitely be able to find our new members in all this business," he said. "Overall, it might be a little crowded, but I think it'll definitely work!"

"Yeah right," he heard Combeferre mutter behind him. "R, can't you do something about this?"

"Why me?"

"Because you know everyone! Isn't there someone you can call for crowd control?"

"Hmm." Grantaire thought for a minute. "Oh, actually, yeah. I'll call my roommate. If I tell him Eponine needs his help, he'll totally come running."

"I don't need his help, you dickbag," grumbled Eponine. "Just threaten to mess up his shoes or something. That always works."

Grantaire smirked at her. "Too late, I already sent the text."

While Musichetta went to break up an impending fight between the two friends, the others went to set up more chairs around the room, and move Marius's electric keyboard into a corner where it would be safe from the mobs of hopeful singers. Courfeyrac rather wished it were possible to move Marius into a corner as well; the poor kid looked absolutely terrified at the thought of accompanying so many people.

"You don't have to be here, you know," he told him as kindly as possible. "I'm sure these guys can get along fine without you, and some of them might be too scared to even use accompaniment."

"No!" Marius clenched his jaw, probably attempting to look tough, but really just looking like a slightly fluffier puppy. "My place is here. I'll audition with you!" Courfeyrac felt a rush of affection for his dorky little friend.

"You're an all star," he told him. "You got your game on, go play."

Cosette came up to them, having just heard the exchange. "Marius, you're really going to play for everyone?" she asked. "That's impressive!" Marius blushed and mumbled something under his breath, looking both delighted and completely out of his depth. "No, really!" went on Cosette. "You don't even sing, and you're willing to help us out all the time! It's amazing." Courfeyrac decided to give them some space, and moved away before he could catch Marius's flustered reply. He went over to Eponine, who was standing against the wall looking murderous.

"What's up?" he asked. "Something wrong?" Eponine's answering glare almost made him rethink his choice. "Sorry," he added. "I didn't mean to pry."

Eponine sighed and shook her head. "No, I'm sorry," she said. "I'm just, I don't know. Those two are giving me a toothache." Courfeyrac stopped to consider this statement. He knew that Eponine had had a crush on Marius the year before; that was common knowledge, and she herself made jokes about it fairly often. But she didn't like him anymore, did she? He thought not. Eponine was not the kind of person to fall for someone a second time. So since it wasn't that, there was only one other alternative. She must have an unrequited crush on someone else, and seeing the new It Couple interacting was making her jealous. That was it! Courfeyrac congratulated himself on his mental acuity before reaching out a hesitant hand to touch Eponine's arm.

"Hey, it'll all work out," he said. "You're a beautiful, strong, independent alto, and you're going to find the happiness you deserve."

Eponine stared at him, wide-eyed. "Thanks Courf," she said. "You're surprisingly sweet sometimes."

"I think you mean all the time!" Courfeyrac made finger guns at her, then backed away before she could call him out on his cheesiness. Why people didn't like finger guns was beyond him, but he supposed they were entitled to their own wrong opinions. He went to find Combeferre and Enjolras, who were probably bored without him by now.

"Hey guys," he greeted them, throwing an arm around each of their shoulders. "Did you hear the news?"

"No, what news?" Enjolras was instantly alert. "Is there a protest? A new court case? Did someone finally propose a better equal rights amendment?"

"Even better," said Courfeyrac, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Eponine likes someone!"

"She what?"

Not even Enjolras could miss the blatant panic in Combeferre's voice. He looked at his friend with concern and reached up to pat him on the head. Courfeyrac raised an eyebrow. Interesting.

"Did she, uh, did she say whom?" Combeferre's voice was so strangled that Courfeyrac didn't even have the heart to make fun of him for saying 'whom.'

"No, she didn't," he said. "In fact, she didn't say anything at all. I just inferred it. I'm good at that, you know!"

"Oh, so maybe she doesn't!"

"Nah man, I'm telling you, she's got the hots for somebody. And I don't know who it is yet, but you can bet I'm gonna do my darndest to find out."

Enjolras looked from one to the other, somewhat confused. "Well, why don't you just ask her?" Combeferre gasped in alarm, and Courfeyrac groaned theatrically.

"Oh, you precious incompetent little cinnamon roll. This is love! You can't be brash about love. It has to come from the heart, you know?"

"Can't you ask her, from the heart?"

"Oh no no. This is a delicate matter. Let's go talk to Grantaire about this; he would know."

For some reason, Enjolras blushed. "No, that's okay! We have to get started on these auditions, remember?"

"Oh yeah, there's that."

Together, the three boys went over to Grantaire, who was leaning against the wall and showing Gavroche a game on his phone. "Hey R!" called Courfeyrac. "Is your crowd control here yet?"

Grantaire looked up and nodded. "He should be here any minute now."

"Great!" Combeferre looked immensely relieved. "By the way, you told him what's going on, right?"

"Ah, well, that's– "

Before Grantaire could finish his sentence, the door banged open, and Montparnasse stormed in, looking like he was ready to lead a revolution all by himself. "Where's Eponine?" he shouted. "What's going on here?"

"Oh hey 'Parnasse," said Grantaire casually. "Glad you could make it."

"What the hell is going on?"

"Hey there pretty boy," drawled Eponine, sliding over to step in front of the glaring Montparnasse. "How you doin'?"

"Ep does need your help," spoke up Grantaire quickly, seeing that his brain was about to combust."In fact, we all do."

Montparnasse's face brightened. "Really?"

"Yeah, really."

"Well, what can I do?"

"Now we're talkin'!" Grantaire grinned at him and cracked his knuckles. "Okay! So when you were coming in, did you see that huge-ass crowd of people?"

"Sort of. I think I knocked some of them down."

Grantaire's smile faltered. "Okay. Well, that's uh, that's not great. Anyway, what we need you to do is act as crowd control when we bring them all in here. Can you do that?"

"Sure thing!" Montparnasse flexed obnoxiously. "You want me to rough them up a little bit too, ya know, inspire the fear of Mont in them?"

"Absolutely not."

"So boring. All right, no problem. Let 'em come, I'm ready!"

"I'm ready too," said Courfeyrac. He felt it was past time these auditions got started. "Let's get this show on the road, you guys!"

/

At first, Courfeyrac had had doubts about Montparnasse as effective crowd control, but he quickly proved himself to be more than equal to the task. He rounded up the auditionees in short order, and had them seated neatly without a fuss, ready and waiting to hear Combeferre's opening spiel (although Enjolras was generally the designated speaker of the group, Courfeyrac had been skeptical of his ability to stay on task and not start ranting about tort reform in the middle of his speech, and had appointed Combeferre to do the lead-in instead). Whenever anyone made too much noise, Montparnasse would look at them for an uncomfortably long period of time until they subsided, and as a consequence, the room was quieter than some lecture halls Courfeyrac had been in. This silence might have been unsettling to Combeferre too, because he twitched nervously and coughed as he began speaking.

"Uh, hey, hi guys! Welcome to the, the ABC uh, auditions!"

The crowd started shifting around, and only stopped when Montparnasse cracked his knuckles threateningly. Only slightly reassured, Combeferre continued.

"We're, we're the ABC, and we're going to audition. Um, I mean you're going to audition. For us. Because we're uh, the ABC… yeah."

Courfeyrac cringed on his friend's behalf. Combeferre was usually fairly eloquent, but sometimes he got nervous, and now appeared to be one of those times. Maybe they should have let Enjolras do the speaking after all. On the other hand, the kind of people who would object to Combeferre's awkwardness would probably not be the kind of people who would fit in with the group in the first place, so maybe it was just as well. Still, though…

"Like he said!" Courfeyrac came up to stand next to Combeferre, smiling brightly at the crowd. "We're ABC, and you're A-B-eautiful! Now, we're gonna do it this way. Y'all can audition in any order you want, but you have to wait your turn in this room. Sorry about that! It's university policy, and we don't want to tick them off any more than we have to after Bruin Walk Gate. If you're curious about that, ask Enj here. He's got stories to tell, believe me!" The crowd laughed appreciatively, and Enjolras shot him an outraged look. "Fill in the paper that's going around. We'll start auditioning in a sec," went on Courfeyrac, ignoring him. "But I'm guessing you want to know a bit about us first?"

"Hell yeah we do, boy!" called someone from the audience. "Like, can I get your number?"

Courfeyrac pointed finger guns in the general direction of the voice. "I like the way you think," he said.

"Introduce yourselves!" shouted someone else. "The pretty blonde one first!"

Enjolras, Eponine, and Marius looked at Cosette. Everyone else looked at Enjolras. Grantaire took advantage of the temporary confusion to come to the front and wave sassily.

"Hi, I'm Grantaire," he said. "But you can call me R. I'm the pretty one of the group."

The crowd laughed, but Courfeyrac noticed that Enjolras looked like he agreed with Grantaire's statement wholeheartedly.

"I'm not just an art piece, though," Grantaire went on. "I'm also an art student! Third year fine arts major and philosophy minor. Totally guaranteed to get a job one day."

"He's also a member of like five clubs!" said Eponine. "Trust me, this boy is fire." Grantaire shrugged. "What can I say?"

Joly took the floor next. "Hey guys!" he sang. "My name's Joly! I'm a third-year too, and I'm premed psychobio! And Bossuet had to leave, so I'll introduce him too. He's a fifth-year psych major, and is basically the best person ever." Musichetta coughed. "Oh, except for this girl here," he amended quickly. "Musichetta! Third-year classics major and self-proclaimed art hoe!"

"Oh, are we introducing other people now?" asked Courfeyrac eagerly. "I like this! Ladies and gentleman and variants thereupon, let me now introduce you to Enjolras!" He grabbed his friend and pushed him forward. "He's a second-year pre-law double-major in political science and history, and he's making waves in the honors program as we speak."

"I'm also a math minor!" piped up Enjolras happily.

"Damn boy, how you got time to be looking so fine?" hollered someone from the crowd, and someone else wolf-whistled.

"That's what I'm wondering," mumbled Grantaire, but only Courfeyrac seemed to hear him.

"Oh, is it my turn now? Okay!" Enjolras wriggled out of Courfeyrac's embrace and pointed at him. "This is Courfeyrac! He's a third-year comparative politics major, and he's really good at theatre too! He's the best. Be friends with him!"

"Aww, Enj," Courfeyrac engulfed him in another bear hug. " _You're_ the best. Hey, 'Ferre! It's your turn!"

"Uh, okay." Combeferre looked slightly less nervous now that he wasn't the sole focus of attention. "Um, well, this is Eponine, and she's a second-year biology major. She's really smart and good at pretty much everything." Eponine waved, then went to kiss Combeferre on the cheek.

"You're rad." She turned to the crowd. "Guys, this is Combeferre! He's a third-year honors MIMG major and neuroscience minor, and he's a pretty cool dude. You should talk to him sometime."

Combeferre looked like he was about to explode into a million tiny heart emojis. Courfeyrac turned to Enjolras and raised his eyebrows at him pointedly– this was quite an interesting development that they needed to discuss as soon as possible. Meanwhile, Cosette had taken the floor.

"Hi guys! This is our wonderful accompanist, Marius! He's a second-year anthropology major, and he's really awesome at piano. Also, he's incredible at making coffee. We love him all the time, but especially before exams!" Now Marius looked starstruck. He gaped for a couple seconds before recovering enough to introduce Cosette.

"Uh, this is Cosette." His voice was comparable to the one that Enjolras used when he was talking about tax reform. "She's a second-year, currently trying to decide between English and psychology, which is hard because she's amazing at both. In fact, she's amazing at everything." He probably would have gone on longer, but Courfeyrac coughed pointedly, and he withdrew, blushing furiously.

"Thanks Marius," whispered Cosette with a smile that made the boy turn even redder and look at the floor, mumbling something about doing his best. Courfeyrac waved to the crowd.

"So there you have it!" he said. "That's us! Now, we want to hear you. Here's how we'll do it. When you audition, just come up here, introduce yourself, tell us what you're singing, then go from there. If you don't have anything special, we have a list you can choose from, no worries. Marius can accompany you if you want. Sound good?" The crowd shouted its affirmation. "Great! So who wants to kick things off?"

"I do!" A pretty blonde girl stood up and came to the front of the room, smiling flirtatiously at Grantaire. "It's nice to see you up close, R." Grantaire smiled at her politely, but didn't say anything in return. The girl tossed her head. "I'm Irma," she said. "I'm a third-year landscape design major, and I'm a soprano. Just so you know. I'm going to be singing _Think of Me_ from Phantom of the Opera." She produced a paper-clipped stack of pages and handed them to Marius. "Try to play on tempo." Marius nodded, looking terrified, and nearly tripped as he went over to the piano.

"Whenever you're ready," said Courfeyrac.

Irma nodded at Marius. "Go ahead." Marius began to play, and Irma looked at the floor with her eyes closed. Courfeyrac looked at the others hopefully. Cliche audition piece aside, it seemed like she knew what she was doing; could this be their newest soprano? This happy thought was shattered when she began to sing.

"Think of me, think of me faahhhhndly, when we say goodbaaaahhyye," she shrilled, making uncomfortable eye contact with the ABC in general, and Grantaire in particular. "Remember me, every so aaaahhhfen, promise me you'll try!"

"She's singing the movie version," muttered Joly.

"Is that what that is?" replied Eponine under her breath.

Irma continued singing, her voice growing more and more nasal as she went on. Finally, Courfeyrac had had enough.

"Uh, okay, thank you Irma!" he called, waving to get her attention. "Um, sorry to stop you, but since we have so many people, we can't hear everybody's full songs. Thank you though, that was great."

"You're welcome." Irma simpered back to her seat to retrieve her purse before going to the door. "I'm guessing you'll contact me soon. Thanks for the audition guys. I'll see you later, R." She blew them all a kiss and left, banging the door behind her.

"Wow." Courfeyrac shook his head to clear the ringing from his ears. "Okay. Uh, who's next?"

/*

It had been two hours, and Grantaire was beginning to get a headache. So far, none of these people had shown any promise, except for a cute girl named Floréal, whom he knew slightly, and a cheerful-looking tenor named Feuilly who gave a rendition of _Titanium_ that left Courfeyrac starry-eyed. They had been the only two breaths of air in what was shaping up to be a truly horrible experience, and no other talent seemed to be forthcoming. Evidently, some of the audience members thought so too, because at the end of one more dreary run-through of _Music of the Night_ , there was a commotion in the back row, and a large man jumped to his feet, knocking his chair over as he did so.

"Hold up! You guys think this is a fucking joke? I'll show you how it's done." He stalked up to the front of the room and pointed at Marius, who had turned the color of the sheet music in front of him. "Yo, give me a C-sharp."

Marius reached out a trembling finger to play the note.

"Okay! Listen up good, shitheads!" Without further ado, the man immediately began to belt out one of the strangest pieces Grantaire had ever heard, but he did so with such impeccable intonation and tone quality that it didn't seem out of place. By the time he was done, the mood in the room was electric. People were nudging their neighbors and buzzing excitedly, and Grantaire was fairly certain that the performance had been captured on several phones. He couldn't help it; he began to applaud.

"Okay dude," he said. "I know we're supposed to be impartial and all, but holy crap, you were amazing!"

The man grinned at him broadly. "Thanks man!" He pounded his chest in a wrestler's salute before vaulting over the front row of chairs and going towards the door. "It's been a trip. Bahorel out!"

The crowd stared at his retreating figure as he sauntered off down the hallway without closing the door, and Grantaire could hear them murmuring to themselves.

Courfeyrac coughed. "Okay, guys. Who's next?"

There was complete silence for almost thirty complete seconds as the auditionees stared back at the ABC.

"Come on, someone's gotta go," wheedled Courfeyrac.

"No one wants to go after that," grumbled someone, and there was a wave of assent. Grantaire groaned. What a time for people to get self-conscious.

"Fine, okay!" Montparnasse stood up and came forward, and _what_ the hell was he doing? "You guys are weak. Fine! I'll do a damn audition. Will that get the sticks out of your asses?" Grantaire dropped his head onto the table.

"'Parnasse, really?"

"Oh yeah." Montparnasse grinned toothily at the ABC. "Get ready to be blown away, bitches." He struck what he probably thought was an artistic pose, and began to sing at the top of his lungs.

To Grantaire's immense astonishment, he wasn't too bad. His voice was clear and in tune, and his breath support was fairly impressive, probably as a result of lengthy screaming matches with Babet. He sang around the apartment sometimes, but never like this, and almost despite himself, Grantaire was impressed. When he had finished his song, Montparnasse took a deep, theatrical bow.

"You're welcome, ladies."

"Wow, 'Parnasse," Eponine spoke up. "I didn't know you could sing like that!"

"Wanna find out what else I can do like that?" Montparnasse winked lasciviously at her.

"That doesn't even make sense."

Grantaire hastily decided to break in before Montparnasse decided to elaborate. "Okay! Really good job, man! Does anyone else want to go now?"

"You better," warned Montparnasse as he went back to his seat. "I just put my ass on the line for all of you, so you ought to appreciate it."

"I'll go." An auditionee in a Wicked t-shirt came up to the front, and Grantaire had a brief flash of hope. Then they started singing, and that hope disappeared as quickly as it had come. Bahorel and Montparnasse had been refreshing, but now it was time for the shitstorm to resume. Grantaire wished he'd brought along something to drink. It was going to be a long afternoon.

/

By the time the auditions were over, even Courfeyrac was looking a little gray around the edges. Marius was curled up in the corner behind his keyboard, sleeping, and Joly was offering everyone aspirin, though he was also listing the various side effects, which didn't make his offering seem entirely convincing. Musichetta looked around the now-empty room and gave a long, drawn-out groan.

"Let's agree to never do this again, yeah?"

Everyone was so busy agreeing with her, that they almost missed the door opening again, and a timid voice whispering "excuse me?" Eponine noticed first, turning to greet the newcomer, and everyone else followed suite. At first, Grantaire almost missed them. They were one of the tiniest people he'd ever seen, smaller than Enjolras or Eponine, or even the lovechild that they would produce if they decided to somehow populate the planet with tiny revolutionaries (an idea which bothered Grantaire on multiple levels). They had freckles, a button nose, a thick braid of auburn hair, and a terror-stricken expression on their sweet little doll-like face.

"Can we help you?" Enjolras's voice was warm and sympathetic, and Grantaire almost felt envious of his addressee, who visibly relaxed a fraction.

"Um, I was looking for, well, is this the, um, the ABC?"

"Yes, we're the ABC! Do you need something?"

"I wanted to, um…" The tiny person's voice trailed off, and they blushed.

"It's okay, you can tell us!"

"I, I wanted to audition? If that's okay? But if not, I understand! I know I'm late, but I was too scared to come in, and I, um, I just, you know, I think I better go."

"No, wait!" Courfeyrac's voice was just this side of desperate, and Grantaire turned to look at him in surprise. "We're not scary, I promise! Honestly, we're the biggest dorks ever. Don't be scared of us! You can totally audition. We don't bite!"

"O-oh." The tiny person seemed to consider this. "Well, if you're sure that's okay…"

"Totally okay!"

"Why don't you introduce yourself?" added Cosette sweetly.

The tiny person seemed reassured. Cosette really was disarming. "Well, um, my name is Jean Prouvaire. Oh, but um, you can call me Jehan. Also, I can use any pronouns? I don't really care. Except, well, I like she and they most. Um, I'm a first year, and I do linguistics and history, and I think your club is super cool! I was going to do a wind ensemble, because I play the flute, but it didn't fit in my schedule, and also they were really scary, so I decided to try to do a choir thing instead, and um… I'm rambling, aren't I?" They broke off, looking embarrassed.

"No, not at all!" Courfeyrac smiled warmly. "It's really great to meet you, Jehan." Jehan ducked their head and blushed again. "Now, what will you be singing for us today?"

"Um, well, I thought I would do one of the songs from Doctor Atomic? I'm not singing it like an opera aria though, don't worry! Um, is it okay if I do it acapella?"

"Of course!"

Jehan nodded nervously, and began singing. At first, their voice was quiet, but as they gained confidence, the song grew in volume and power. Grantaire knew the song slightly, but he'd only heard the operatic version, and this arrangement was fascinating. It perfectly suited Jehan's lovely clear voice, and when they were done, everyone burst into cheers.

"That was amazing!" said Cosette.

"Really? You think so?"

"I do! You're seriously one of the best singers I've ever heard."

"Oh, that can't be true!"

"No, really." Courfeyrac was looking at Jehan with an expression that Grantaire recognized very well. It was the same one that he himself wore when he was looking at Enjolras. "You're the only alto we've heard today who's even been remotely okay. Do you, uh…" he trailed off, looking at the rest of the group. They nodded enthusiastically. "Do you want to be in the ABC? The spot's yours if you want it."

"Really?" Jehan clasped their hands and broke into a dazzling smile. Courfeyrac looked like he might fall over.

"Yeah! We'd love to have you!"

"I'd love to!" Jehan bounced excitedly. "Oh my gosh, thank you so much! I was so worried. This is seriously so amazing!"

"We're just as glad as you are," said Enjolras, seeing that Courfeyrac seemed to be incapable of speech. "We're really excited, honestly."

Jehan squeaked happily, and Grantaire found himself smiling. What a cute kid. Combeferre looked up from his phone.

"So, our first meeting with our new members is going to be next Tuesday at 6:30 PM in this room. Is that okay for you?"

"Oh, totally! I'm free any time!"

"Great." Combeferre stood up and went over to Jehan. "Can I give you my number? That way, you can contact me if you have any questions."

"Oh, me too, good thinking 'Ferre!" Enjolras came over too. "Is that okay with you?"

"Yes please, thank you!" Jehan handed over their little pink iPhone 4 and both of the others put in their numbers. "I'll text you guys!" said Jehan cheerfully. "Thanks so much again! I appreciate this all more than you know. And um, I guess I'll see you on Tuesday!"

Courfeyrac looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn't quite know what it was, and his hesitant goodbye was almost lost amid the boisterous shouts of the other ABC members sending Jehan off in proper style. Grantaire almost felt bad for him, but he knew this wouldn't get him down. After all, he had a year's worth of ABC meetings coming up to try and impress the little newcomer, and Courfeyrac was nothing if not optimistic. Everything would probably work out perfectly. Still, Grantaire gave him a sympathetic pat on the back as the ABC left the room. Love really was the worst.


	4. LOL (lots of love)

/notes at end/

Enjolras was trying to study. Despite it being only week 3, he had what his professor called a 'pre-midterm' (and his classmates called 'hell on earth') in two days, and since this was his first chance to cement his grade in the class, he wanted to be sure he knew his stuff. Unfortunately, Courfeyrac and Combeferre had other ideas. Courfeyrac pounced on him as he was finishing his second textbook read-through, deftly replacing the highlighter in his hand with a shot glass, and instead of arguing the merits of academic excellence as he usually did, Combeferre merely produced a bottle of whiskey and shrugged with a forlorn expression. Enjolras mentally berated himself for not listening to all those warnings on the internet about living with one's best friends before resigning himself to a completely unproductive night.

"Okay guys," he said. "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" Courfeyrac threw out his arms in a dramatic gesture. "Love! Love will be the death of us all!"

Oh. That would definitely explain it. Courfeyrac fell in love on almost a monthly basis, and he was always extremely dramatic about it. But that didn't explain Combeferre's complicity in the matter. Enjolras turned to him with a questioning look.

"He's right." Combeferre poured himself a shot of whiskey and downed it. "Everything's terrible."

"Terrible," echoed Courfeyrac.

"If everyone is like us, the world as we know it is doomed."

"Doomed!"

"How can I live when life itself is like gazing into the abyss?"

"The very abyss, I'm telling you!"

Combeferre's voice crescendoed impressively. "The sun has set for me. Goodbye to love, goodbye to happiness, goodbye to hope forever!"

"Forever," intoned Courfeyrac. Both of them stared intently at Enjolras.

"What can we do?"

"Um." Enjolras blinked. This was so not his domain. "Well, have you tried, um, talking to them?"

"Talking to them, he says!" Courfeyrac pointed at him. "You know nothing!"

"Nothing," repeated Combeferre, apparently taking his turn as the human echo.

Enjolras was rather insulted. "I know some things!"

"But can you help us with our love problems?"

"Maybe!" Combeferre and Courfeyrac brightened up. "But first, what are the love problems?" Combeferre and Courfeyrac groaned as a unit and put their heads in their hands.

"You don't even know!"

"Well, no. That's why I'm asking."

"Okay." Courfeyrac poured himself a drink and adopted the pose that meant he was about to engage in a lengthy monologue. "See, it's this way. I'm a pretty fun guy, right? I can talk and stuff. And when I see a cute person, I can work my smooth moves and get somewhere. Most of the time, I mean. It's like my superpower or something, ya know? But then today, I see the most perfect and wonderful person in the entire world, like this ethereal being of light and beauty comes into my life, and of course I wanna charm their weirdly large knitted cat sweater off, right? But I couldn't do it, man! I froze up! Like, you don't even understand, you guys. This never happens to me. I'm in love, and I can't do anything about it, because I've been replaced by a doppelgänger. A zombie Courf, you guys!"

"I don't think zombies and doppelgängers are the same thing," interjected Combeferre, whose love of accuracy didn't seem to be diminished by either his sorrows or his inebriation.

"Whatever! Do you expect me to be thinking straight? My soul is on fire here!"

Enjolras pondered this information for a second. Then something clicked.

"Wait, are you talking about Jehan?"

"Jehan. Even their name is beautiful!"

Enjolras took this as affirmation. "Well, that's not too bad!" he said brightly. "They're in our group now, so you'll get to see them all the time, and talk to them and stuff. It'll be fine!"

"That's what I've been trying to say," said Combeferre glumly. "At least he has a chance."

"You have a chance too," said Courfeyrac. "At least you can behave normally around her!"

"Who's her?" asked Enjolras ungrammatically. Courfeyrac tutted at him.

"You really haven't noticed?"

"Uh… no?"

Courfeyrac lowered his voice dramatically. "It's Eponine! 'Ferre's in love with none other than our favorite biologist!"

Enjolras was stunned. "Really?"

"Yeah." Combeferre looked uncomfortable. "I've liked her for awhile now."

"But he's convinced that she doesn't feel the same way," put in Courfeyrac. "Which I think is ridiculous, because this is 'Ferre we're talking about! Who wouldn't want a piece of that?"

"Eponine wouldn't," said Combeferre unhappily.

Courfeyrac poured him another drink, while Enjolras pondered deeply. Had Eponine said anything about whom she liked, if she did indeed like anyone? He didn't think so. She wasn't the type to discuss her own feelings. Even when she'd liked Marius, she'd kept fairly quiet about it, only making allusion to her crush in passing, and not bringing up the topic of love at all if she could help it, unless it meant she could tease him about Grantaire. He thought there was definitely a chance that she liked someone now, and there was no reason that someone shouldn't be Combeferre.

"How do you know?" he asked. "Has she said anything?"

"No, and that's the problem!" Combeferre's speech was becoming slightly slurred, and Enjolras wondered just how many drinks he'd had. "She treats me just like everyone else, you know? I mean, she talks to me like she talks to you! And I don't wanna be you, man. I wanna be me. But every day it's just like 'oh 'Ferre did you read the latest issue of _Scientific American_? 'Ferre do you wanna talk about the patriarchy? 'Ferre, let's talk about physics instead of feelings because we're completely platonic friends and there's absolutely no hope of a chemical reaction happening between us.' There's no hope, man! No hope at all!"

Enjolras decided not to question Combeferre's choice to describe romance as a "chemical reaction". Instead, he pulled out his phone. "Do you want me to text her?" he asked. "I can ask her straight up if she likes you or not."

"No way!" Combeferre snatched the phone out of his hand and (unfortunately) stuffed it down his pants. "That's not the way we do things 'round here!"

"Why not?" Enjolras was confused. "Wouldn't it be better to know?"

"No!"

"Think of it this way," said Courfeyrac. "Would you want us to text Grantaire right now and ask him if he likes you?"

"I already know he doesn't, so that's– wait." Enjolras felt his face heat up. "Why are we assuming that… I mean, I would never… Grantaire would never… " he trailed off, red in the face, and Courfeyrac cooed happily.

"What'd I tell you, 'Ferre?"

"You guys were talking about this?"

"Oh yeah." Combeferre pointed at him vaguely. "You and R, you guys just, you really just… it's real cute. Real cute."

"No it's not!"

"Listen." Courfeyrac looked at him sternly and laid a hand on his shoulder. "You're the only one of us who has a decent shot at getting some lovin' right this minute. So do it. Ya gotta do it for the rest of us, man."

"Take one for the team," mumbled Combeferre.

"Th-that's, I would never, I mean m-me and Grantaire, uh…" Enjolras realized he was stuttering, and decided to stop while he was ahead. He tossed his head and preserved as dignified a silence as he could while his friends laughed uproariously. Really, these two were the worst.

"Listen guys," said Courfeyrac, when he'd finally calmed down. "We're all in the same shitty-ass boat here– yes, you too Enj, don't interrupt– so I've made the executive decision that we should all act as each other's wingmen should the need arise. Cuz that's what friends do and stuff."

"We're more than friends," interposed Combeferre, affectionately curling himself around Enjolras like a drunk house cat. "We're, we're brothers, man. Like, we're fuckin' family. You guys, you're like if we were all zygotes and we just, we…"

"Okay 'Ferre." Enjolras patted him on the head. "And sure. I'll be a wingman for you guys. Okay?" Courfeyrac squealed with glee and jumped up beside him to join the cuddle pile.

"You're wonderful!" he sang. "I love you, I love you! Not as much as I love Jehan. But almost."

"Wow, thanks."

Courfeyrac wasn't listening. "Let's all get really drunk and watch Disney movies. Okay? Yes. Good."

Enjolras looked sadly at his abandoned textbook. Then he looked at his two best friends, with their puppy eyes and palpable affection. He sighed.

"Fine, but not all night, okay?"

"Don't worry," said Courfeyrac. "We'll probably be passed out by 3."

This wasn't as reassuring as Courfeyrac probably intended it to be, but Enjolras decided he could deal with it. He loved his friends more than anything; studying could wait just a little more.

/

After dinner the next day, the current members of the ABC congregated in Cosette's dorm to discuss plans. Her ridiculously wealthy and indulgent father had somehow managed to finagle a luxury suite for her use alone, and it was one of the group's favorite places to meet. Since Cosette was naturally tidy, and was thoughtful enough to stock large amounts of hand sanitizer and disinfectant wipes, even Joly was satisfied, and many of the others enjoyed relaxing on the fluffy princess furniture scattered about the room. Enjolras curled up on the enormous pink love seat, then got the shock of his life when Grantaire settled down next to him. Something of his surprise must have showed, because Grantaire looked at him and asked quickly,

"Is this okay?"

"Yeah!" Enjolras wondered if he'd sounded too eager. Probably. "Uh, I mean if you want to, that's cool, whatever," he amended, with his best Eponine impression. Grantaire grinned at him.

"You're blushing."

Oh crap. "Well, that's because I, uh…"

"Don't worry bro, it's cute."

Enjolras thought his brain must be shorting out. _Did I hear right? I think I heard right._ What should he say in reply? Something witty, something clever, something borderline flirtatious.

"Just like campaign finance regulations!" he blurted out, then froze in horror. Had he really just said that? Judging from Courfeyrac's nearby muffled snickers, he had. Grantaire stared at him perplexedly.

"That's…"

"Okay, guys!" Marius called, and Enjolras could have gladly kissed that blessed doofus for his interruption. "Can we decide what to do?" Cosette pulled a manila folder out of her desk.

"I have our notes and stuff here."

"Notes– that's a music pun," said Joly happily. Bossuet giggled. Marius looked confused.

"We need at least one new person for each part, right?" spoke up Combeferre. "But how big do we want our group to be?"

"Not that big," said Eponine. "I mean, quality over quantity."

"A big group could sound nice!" Marius looked from one person to the other. "Right?"

"Theoretically, I guess."

"Let's find the people we definitely want, and we'll go from there," said Courfeyrac. "If it turns out we want a lot of people, that's fine, and if not, that's fine too. But we can cross that bridge when we come to it."

Cosette nodded, and opened up the folder. "Okay, so Ep and Chetta and I managed to cross out some people already, because they just didn't fit with our values."

Enjolras looked up. "Oh good, did you get rid of the guy who sang about the glories of communism?"

Cosette laughed. "Yes we did, just for you."

"What about that racist white guy?"

"Which one?"

"Fair point."

Musichetta took out about five copies of the audition list, now featuring several notes, and passed them around. Grantaire politely gave his paper to Joly, then scooted closer to Enjolras to share with him. His shirt was soft, and he smelled nice, and Enjolras thought his heart was going to stop beating. He was vaguely aware of the others complaining about Communism Man and the proliferation of racist creeps on campus, but all he could focus on was the warm pressure of Grantaire's body against his side, and the soft sound of his breathing, close against his ear. Would it be weird if he nestled up just a little closer, maybe leaned his head against Grantaire's shoulder? People platonic-cuddled all the time; he and Courfeyrac and Combeferre had done so just last night. But he didn't want to be the type of person who forced his unwanted attentions onto people just because he found them attractive. That was unacceptable for everyone. Still, he didn't move away, and (half to his surprise) Grantaire didn't either, even though he must have finished reading that paper several times over by now. Gradually, Enjolras forced himself to calm down and listen to what the others were talking about.

"Remember guys," Courfeyrac was saying anxiously, "We're definitely bringing in Jehan, okay!"

"Well obviously," said Eponine. "I can't wait to sing with them."

"I've never heard such a beautiful voice." Courfeyrac's expression was dreamy. "Do angels walk among us? I think they must."

"I think so too," Enjolras heard Grantaire mutter, and was he looking at _him?_ Before he could figure it out, Courfeyrac spoke up again.

"Did you guys think I sounded awkward when I talked to them? I wasn't that bad, right?"

"Are you still on this?" Eponine sounded weary. "No Courf, for the last time, you were a charming little cherub. They probably love you. I promise."

"But are you _sure_?"

"What did you think of that big guy who sang and yelled at everyone?" spoke up Joly. "I thought he could work."

"Oh yeah," Bossuet nodded. "He was funny. I liked him."

"His rhythm wasn't so great, but he would probably be fine if he was working with us." Combeferre said thoughtfully. "I think he could do okay as a bass."

"Yeah," said Grantaire. "It would be fun to sing with him. Let's bring him into the fold."

"The vocal fold!" Joly treated himself to a round of applause for his pun and Musichetta threw her paper at him.

"You're such a dork."

Meanwhile, Enjolras was perusing the audition list, looking for a name that would bring salvation to the group. "What about that guy Feuilly?" he asked. "I liked his tone."

"I did too, actually," said Grantaire. "And I thought his song choice was pretty good."

"I liked it too!"

Grantaire smiled at him. "Then it's meant to be."

"You could ask the rest of us, ya know," said Musichetta, as Enjolras tried to remember how to breathe. "But I mean, sure. He was really good. And super cute."

"Are you angling for a third boyfriend?" teased Cosette. Joly and Bossuet looked slightly alarmed. Musichetta rolled her eyes.

"Nah, he's not my type. You can have him."

Now Marius looked alarmed. He looked at Cosette intently, as if trying to figure out if she would make good on this offer, but she didn't seem to notice.

"So, that's a yes on Feuilly," she said. "Speaking of people with F names, what did you guys think of Floréal?"

"She sang a song from Repo and somehow made it work," said Courfeyrac. "I'd say that gives her an automatic in."

"She said she was double-majoring in art and mechanical engineering, though," pointed out Combeferre. "Is she going to have time to rehearse with us?"

"I think so. She works really fast and is good at prioritizing her time." Grantaire nodded decisively. "I think it would be okay." Everyone turned to stare at him. "What? I had a class with her last quarter."

"That's a provisional okay then?" Cosette looked hopeful. "I'd really like to have her sing with me and Chetta. She was the only soprano-ish person I remember who didn't do weird things with her vowels."

"Sure, we'll ask her, and see if she's up to it." Eponine made a note on her paper. "Oh hey, that's one for each section, isn't it?"

"No it's not," said Bossuet mournfully. "You forgot the baritones."

"Oh yeah."

Everyone was quiet for a second as they combed through the list, trying to find someone, but coming up short. No one even remotely decent fit into that range. Finally, Grantaire made a face and spoke up.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but do you want me to ask 'Parnasse? He would probably do it."

"Wait, really?" Until now, Enjolras hadn't even realized he was an option. "He was good! I think he could do pretty well!"

"You think so?" Grantaire seemed to be considering this. "Okay then, sure. If it's okay with everyone, I'll ask him." Eponine nodded her affirmation, and everyone else followed her lead. "Great, it's settled then. One baritone, coming right up!"

Enjolras smiled at Grantaire, and in a burst of confidence, squeezed his hand quickly. "You're so good at getting things done." Grantaire looked startled, but, Enjolras was happy to note, not unpleased.

"Oh, that's no problem, uh, y-you…"

"You guys!" Marius ran over and jumped on both of them, completely ruining the moment, and all of Enjolras's previous goodwill towards him vanished. "I just have one reservation about all of this. Bahorel and Montparnasse are super scary, and I don't know if I can play for you guys if they're in there with you!"

"Aww, what's so scary about them?" asked Grantaire. "Bahorel seems like a nice enough dude, and I can personally assure you that Montparnasse is nothing but a fashion-obsessed idiot."

"But I saw him beat up some freshmen the other day!"

Grantaire frowned. "Really? I told him to stop doing that."

"Marius, you were scared of me when we first met," said Enjolras. "And now look!"

"No, I'm still scared of you," Marius replied. Enjolras was hurt.

"Why on earth would you be scared of me?"

Marius was probably about to list some reasons, but Grantaire laughed, pulling them both into a hug and ruffling their hair. "Trust me, sunshine, half the campus is probably scared of you. But that's a good thing."

"No it's not," protested Enjolras, but since he was so preoccupied with the fact that Grantaire's arm was around him, it came out a little breathless, and not convincing at all. He was gearing up to rectify this mistake, when Courfeyrac came bouncing over, shouting,

"Cuddle pile!"

In less time than seemed reasonable, everyone had joined in, even Eponine, and Enjolras had an entirely different reason to feel breathless. Bossuet and Joly were both sitting directly on top of him. Still, he reflected, there was no other group of people by whom he'd rather be squished, and right now, there was no place he'd rather be.

/*

By the time Tuesday rolled around, Jehan was beginning to regret her decision to join the ABC. Sure, everyone had seemed nice at the auditions, but that might have been just a public persona, and anyway, walking alone into a room full of complete strangers, no matter how nice they were, was grounds for panic on any account. She spent the whole day in a flutter of nervousness, trying to decide whether or not to go, weighing the pros and cons, and not getting anywhere. It was almost a relief when her last lecture finished, and she could finally head back to her dorm to ruminate in private. As she slowly walked back up the hill to Dykstra Hall, she was so deep in thought that she missed the approaching figure of an enormous fratboy-looking fellow and crashed headlong into him, falling to the ground with an embarrassingly high-pitched squeak.

"Oh shit!" The fratboy dropped down next to her to help her gather up her papers. "I didn't see you there, little one! Are you okay?"

"I-I'm fine." Damn it, why did she have to stutter all the time? She ignored the fratboy's offered hand and jumped to her feet by herself. "Um, thanks for picking this stuff up. I, uh, I'll just be going now."

Without waiting for an answer, she took back her papers and walked away quickly before she could make herself look any more ridiculous. Why did this always have to happen? It was getting so that something embarrassing happened every time she went outside. Not that she went outside that much nowadays. She had always been timid and anxious and prone to panic attacks, but she had managed to keep a fairly good handle on herself, and had even found a decently-sized group of friends in high school. Now, though, she could barely bring herself to leave her dorm, even to go to class, and even then, she sometimes had to leave and hide somewhere quiet so her nerves would calm down. Encounters like the one she'd just had were probably fairly commonplace, and definitely nothing to worry about, but she couldn't stop replaying the interaction in her head, making it worse with every run-through. _I'm so stupid and awkward,_ she thought as she climbed the stairs to her floor. _Everyone I meet hates me, that's perfectly clear, and I'm sure that guy thought I was completely ridiculous…_ That settled it. She couldn't go to the meeting tonight. It would just be another disaster, and nothing good could come of it. She made up her mind to stay in her dorm all night and watch Netflix. _Not even you could fuck that up, right?_ As soon as she entered her room, though, she realized this resolution would have to be abandoned. Sitting unconcernedly on her bed were her roommate and her boyfriend, and _oh god did they have their shoes on?_

"Oh hey, look who's back." The boyfriend looked up at her with a sleazy grin. "Wanna join us, cutie?"

"Ew, no." snapped her roommate before Jehan could say anything. "I don't want her anywhere near us. What are you even doing here?"

"I, um, I live here…" That wasn't good, she sounded weak and scared. She raised her chin and tried to think strong thoughts. "What are you doing on my bed?" Her roommate gave her a nasty smirk.

"We're fucking."

 _Please don't let that be true._ "Why can't you use your bed? It's right there."

"Yeah, but it's dirty. You might be a freak, but at least you're clean."

Jehan had to admit, there was a sort of twisted logic in that. She didn't mind mess or clutter– she was a poet, after all– but she hated dirt, and cleaning things helped her feel less anxious sometimes. Her roommate, on the other hand, was a complete slob, and her boyfriend, who seemed to spend most of his time there, was even worse. And since neither of them had any regard for anyone else, it made sense that they were so happy to invade her space and use her belongings all the time.

"Um, can you leave? We're kind of busy here." Her roommate snapped her fingers at her condescendingly. "I think even you should be able to see that."

"Unless you wanna hop on up here with us. My offer still stands," added the boyfriend, leering at her.

"N-no, I'm just, I'm just leaving," stuttered Jehan. She turned around and practically ran into the hall, not bothering to put down her bag. It probably wasn't good to give into them like that, but she didn't think she was physically capable of doing anything else. The truth was, she was terrified of them both, and running away was apparently the only thing she could do anymore. Sadly, she remembered the days when she'd been able to hold her own on any grounds, and had been the first in line to protect her friends, or herself. _I was a real badass back then,_ she thought wistfully. _What happened?_

Sighing softly, she wandered out of the building without a clear plan as to where she was going, and before she knew it, she was standing outside the front steps of Kerckhoff Hall. Maybe this was her subconscious mind's way of telling her to go to rehearsal after all. It would certainly be a way to kill time until it was safe to go back into her room. Since she still had about half an hour until she had to decide for sure, she decided to go inside and get a coffee at the cafe while she waited. Maybe she could find a quiet study room, or if she was lucky, even a free table inside the coffeeshop. It was already almost six, and since many people were already off campus for the day, there might very well be an empty corner for her. When she entered the building, she saw that this was the case. The coffeeshop was almost empty, except for a few stressed-looking computer science nerds desperately trying to fix their code, and a boy in a philosophy department shirt aggressively third-wheeling his unhappy-looking friends and talking loudly about Kant. Jehan was tempted to walk over and correct him, since some of the points he was mentioning were blatantly wrong, but she quelled her inner philosopher and went to order her coffee instead.

Since she had no homework to do, and her course material was too simple for any real studying, Jehan instead pulled out her notebook to work on some fashion designs. She wasn't an artist by any means, although she did find the study of art history fascinating, but she'd always had a deep and abiding interest in fashion, and had taught herself to sketch models over the years. People were usually surprised to learn this, since her own sartorial stylings were rather eccentric, and she had never shown anyone her designs if she could help it. She was concentrating on shading a particularly tricky line, when a sudden voice made her jump.

"Sorry to bother you, but is your name Jehan?"

"Uh, what?" Usually, random people didn't come up to talk to her, and they definitely didn't know her name. "Sorry, who are you?"

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Her addressee looked genuinely apologetic. "I guess that was super creepy, wasn't it? My name's Feuilly! I'm one of the new members of the ABC."

"Really?" Jehan considered him for a second. He did have a sort of artistic savoir-faire about him, and he seemed to be exactly the kind of person who would join a university chorus group for fun. There was an air of respectability about him as well, and with his ginger hair and freckles, he almost looked like the big brother that Jehan had never had. On impulse, she decided to trust him. "I'm Jehan," she said, extending her hand. "It's nice to meet you. Um, do you want to sit down or something?" Feuilly grasped her hand with an enthusiastic grin.

"I totally do! I'm just going to go grab a coffee so I don't fall asleep all over the table."

Jehan smiled in spite of herself. "Okay! I'll be here." She carefully closed her notebook and returned her colored pencils to their case, but didn't put them back in her bag. She thought that would look rude, and she wasn't eager to offend an ABC member before she'd even gotten to rehearsal. Before long, Feuilly was back, carrying an enormous iced black coffee.

"This is my third one today," he announced, settling himself down at the table. "I'm pretty sure my blood is 90% caffeine by now."

"Why do you drink so much?" Jehan wanted to know.

Feuilly took a long drink. "Yeah, that's the stuff! Well, you see, I sleep about three hours a night if I'm lucky, so this is my only way to stay awake during the day. You should see me during exam weeks! It's impressive." He took another sip. "Did you know that iced coffee has more caffeine than regular coffee? And blonde roast has more than dark roast."

Jehan was intrigued. "Why is that?"

"Between you and me," Feuilly lowered his voice. "I have no idea."

Jehan giggled. She couldn't help but feel at ease around this man. But there was something she had to know. "By the way, how did you recognize me?" she asked. "I didn't see you at the auditions."

"Oh yes, well." Feuilly looked slightly embarrassed. "See, I was curious about the group, and who the members were, so I joined the Facebook group after I got in and stalked everyone's profile. I hope you don't think that was terribly invasive."

"Oh no, not at all!" Jehan shook her head. That was the sort of thing that she might do. "Um, so who else is in there?"

"Hmm." Feuilly thought for a second. "Let's see. So for the old members, there's this really beautiful blond guy who posts the most inspirational status updates I've ever seen. He seems scary, but I get the feeling he's one of those people who's really just a little rubber ducky, you know? And he has two besties that he's always talking to. One of them is a total nerd, and I love it, and the other one is basically the cutest ball of sunshine in the world. They seem like total sweethearts. Then there's this artist guy who's really funny, like I spent a questionably long time on his page just scrolling through and laughing at everything he said. His art is incredibly good, like holy crap man, ya gotta see it. And then there's this trio of people who's always together, two guys and a girl, and they seem like dorks, so even though the girl is kind of scary, I think they would get along with everyone. Then there's a sweet pastel princess girl, and a tiny witty ball-of-rage girl, and both of them are super pretty and smart. And then finally there's the accompanist, who seems really awkward, but not in a bad way or anything. I like him already."

Jehan nodded, somewhat relieved by these flattering descriptions. "And the new members?"

"There are fewer of those." Feuilly began to count on his fingers. "There's you and me, of course, and then a big fratboy with a lot of tattoos, but his page is full of kittens and craft projects and things like that, and a scarily pretty guy whose page contains nothing but selfies, but like the artistic kind with quotes and stuff, and a girl who does mechanical engineering and art and posts lots of pictures of, like airplane parts with flowers on them. She seems cool though."

"Wow." Jehan was somewhat staggered by this onslaught of information. "Do they seem nice?"

"Totally nice!" Feuilly gave her a big smile. "I think we're going to get along amazingly."

"So what about you?" Jehan pointed at him playfully. "What's your story?"

"Okay!" Feuilly took a drink of his coffee, as if preparing for a long speech. "So, I'm a third-year math major, and I'm thinking about declaring an art minor too, although I'm not sure, because that's a lot of work. But I like to be busy! Which is good, now that I mention it, because I have three jobs, and an Etsy account to maintain. That doesn't sound like that much, I know, but somehow it keeps me running back and forth so much that I barely have time to volunteer anymore!"

Jehan stared at him, flabbergasted. "How? How are you even awake right now?"

"So much coffee." Feuilly smiled serenely. "I can't actually remember the last time I went to bed while it was dark outside."

Now that Jehan looked closer, she could see that his eyes looked tired, and he was pale underneath his freckles. "Why are you joining ABC?" she asked. "Are you going to be okay? You need to rest sometime, you know!"

"I missed music, though," said Feuilly, as if that was a perfectly reasonable response. "Besides, I have a couple of hours free nowadays, now that I'm a third-year. Math majors don't have it that bad compared to everyone else. All we do are problem sets, and we write proofs instead of papers. That takes up a lot less time!"

Jehan shook her head. "You're amazing."

"Not at all," Feuilly laughed. "But I want to hear about you! Tell me your story, Jehan."

"You might think that I'm a lot less interesting than you are," Jehan warned, but Feuilly just looked intent and interested, so she went ahead. "I'm a first-year, and I love a lot of things, so it was really hard for me to pick a major, but I went with linguistics and history. Um, well, I wanted to do creative writing, or literature, or something with poetry in it, but my parents– I mean, um, well, that didn't really work out. But it's okay, because I adore my majors! Especially linguistics. I've been trying to learn lots of languages, so it's really fun to study the science of it all! I want to work at the writing center, I think, so maybe I'll go there? But I'm a little intimidated, to be honest with you. I'm from out of state, from New York, so I'm still getting used to how things are here." She paused, slightly out of breath. This was the longest statement she'd made since her audition last week.

"Wow!" Feuilly reached across the table and squeezed her hand. "You're the one who's amazing! Look at you, going so far away from home, and taking on so much in your first year. That's wonderful!"

Jehan blushed at the unexpected commendation. Really, she had no right to it, but it was so nice to hear something kind that she couldn't bring herself to speak and disabuse him of the notion. Feuilly, bless him, didn't make a show of it, and merely went on conversationally,

"So, I have a question for you. As a student of linguistics, do you have a perspective into how the dialects compare between here and your home state? Is there much of a difference?"

"Oh!" Jehan clasped her hands in delight. "What a wonderful question! You know, I actually have noticed some things. Do you really want to hear them all, though?"

"Of course!"

Jehan needed no further prompting. She was so passionate about language that her desire to talk about it and her complete lack of a conversational partner were almost painful, and she had been waiting for a moment like this for a long time. Happily, she began to outline her thoughts, and if she deviated from the exact question in her excitement, Feuilly didn't seem to notice. He was a good listener, and asked such pertinent questions that the time flew by quickly, and she was surprised to look at her phone and see that they had only one minute until rehearsal started. Feuilly immediately began to gather his things to go, but Jehan hesitated. Did she really want to go to rehearsal, even after all this? Nervousness began to overwhelm her again. Feuilly must have seen some of her consternation, because he looked at her with concern.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah, it's just…" How could she put this without sounding ridiculous? She decided to speak and hope her brain could come up with a good answer on the fly. That had worked in the past. "I, um, I'm scared." _Well,_ that _didn't sound stupid at all. Good going, Prouvaire. Your brain is officially the worst._ She looked down at the table, not wanting to meet Feuilly's eyes and see him laughing at her.

"Hey, it's okay."

What. She slowly looked up. Feuilly wasn't laughing, and he wore such a kind and reassuring expression that it almost brought tears to her eyes.

"I know it's scary to join a whole new group like this, especially since you're still getting used to the campus, and to college in general. I can imagine you must be feeling pretty overwhelmed."

Jehan nodded. She didn't trust herself to speak.

"But I really meant it when I said you're amazing," Feuilly went on. "I can already tell that you're smart and strong and super cool! You're going to do great. And you know me now, sort of, and if it makes you feel more comfortable, I promise I won't abandon you when we get in there. You won't have to face anything alone if you don't want to."

"R-really?" Jehan discreetly tried to wipe her eyes. "Are you– are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Thank you." She couldn't remember when she'd said those two words and meant them so sincerely. This probably wasn't anything to Feuilly, but it meant more to her than he would ever know. She gathered up her things and stood up. "I, um, I wasn't sure I wanted to go to rehearsal at all before, but I, I think I will now. Um, with you. If you don't mind."

"Don't be silly. Why would I mind?" Feuilly smiled at her warmly. "Shall we go?"

Jehan swallowed down one last lump of fear, then clenched her jaw and put her shoulders back. It was now or never. "Yeah, I'm ready," she said.

/notes/

Enjolras's thought process: cute — nice — equality — giving everyone a fair chance on the political playing field — campaign finance regulations.

Jehan is a non binary demigirl (in this story), but uses she/her pronouns for convenience. Her friends are divided on what they call her, but she really doesn't care.

**Also, Cosette lives in Hitch or Saxon or something, so she has a living room. All the standard-issue furniture is in storage, replaced with her own stuff.


	5. Rehearsals Begin for L'ABC!

"Courf, would you calm down already? They're going to be here, I promise."

"But what if they're not?"

Combeferre put a hand on Courfeyrac's shoulder. "Then we'll all get really drunk tonight and watch Pokemon and complain about our doomed love lives. But in the meantime, we need to make sure everything's running smoothly for this rehearsal. People are going to start getting here, and you don't really want to leave Enjolras by himself to greet them, do you?"

Courfeyrac sighed. Combeferre was right, as always. Besides, he wasn't cruel enough to leave Enjolras alone to awkwardly usher in the new members. He ran his hands through his hair and straightened his shirt. "Do I look okay, at least?"

Combeferre rolled his eyes. "Yes, Courf. You've probably gotten even more attractive since the last time you asked me that. Which, for the record, was ten minutes ago. Now go!"

Courfeyrac gave him a mock salute, then went to ready up the room. He was engaged in trying to find the plug for Marius's keyboard when the door opened, and Enjolras greeted the newcomer.

"Oh, hello! I'm glad you're here! Did you find the room okay?"

Courfeyrac hurried over, and was disappointed to see that it wasn't Jehan who'd come in, but the large fratboy whose name he was fairly sure was Bahorel. He congratulated himself on masking his disappointment, and went to give Bahorel a high-five.

"Good to see ya, man! You're right on time!"

"Awesome!" Bahorel slapped Enjolras on the back, almost knocking him over. "So! How does this thing work?"

Combeferre materialized. "We're right at the beginning of the quarter," he explained. "So we don't have a set schedule yet. But I promise, it'll be a lot of fun."

"Sounds like it!" Bahorel grinned widely. "I love chaos!"

"It's not supposed to be cha-"

"I'm super pumped, guys! Yell with me!"

Combeferre looked confused. "What?"

"Yell with me!" To demonstrate, Bahorel threw back his head and let out a blood-curdling yodel. "Come on, it'll get us on the ball!"

Courfeyrac needed no further urging. Yelling was one of his talents. He joined Bahorel, and earned an approving slap on the back. Combeferre and Enjolras looked skeptical and kept their mouths closed. Enjolras even looked a little bit scared. Courfeyrac threw an arm around each of them.

"Come on, guys! Let's live!"

He probably could have persuaded them, but the door opened again, and Marius and Cosette came in, followed by Eponine, who was looking grumpy, and Gavroche, who was looking excited. "This is going to be awesome!" he was exclaiming. Then his eyes fell on Bahorel, who was still yelling, and pumping the air with his fist for good measure. His eyes went round.

"Who's that?"

"This is our newest bass, Bahorel," said Courfeyrac, happy to make the introductions. "Bahorel, this is our youngest member, Gavroche Thénardier!"

Bahorel stopped yelling and knelt to look Gavroche right in the eye. Then, he dropped one heavy hand onto his head and gave him a noogie. Eponine stepped forward, looking murderous, but Gavroche didn't seem to be concerned. Instead, he punched Bahorel, much harder than was reasonable for someone his size. Courfeyrac was just trying to think of the best ways to break up a fight between a 300-pound college student and a ten-year-old, when both Bahorel and Gavroche grinned at each other happily and the tension was broken.

"You'll do," said Bahorel.

"You too," said Gavroche. Then they fist bumped.

"We're brothers now."

"Ride or die."

Courfeyrac wasn't sure what had just happened. He looked to Eponine for explanation, and she gave him a thumbs-up, which wasn't very helpful, but then again, he had long since learned not to question the strange behavior of the Thénardiers. Apparently, Bahorel now fit in this category as well. He was just wondering if he should introduce Marius and Cosette when the door opened again, and Joly, Bossuet, and Musichetta poured in, interrupting his train of thought. In the ensuing introductions, and timely arrival of the rest of the members, Courfeyrac almost forgot to look longingly at the door and anticipate the arrival of Jehan.

Almost.

As 6:30 grew closer and closer, and Jehan still hadn't arrived, Courfeyrac could feel himself beginning to give into nerves. Maybe they wouldn't even show up, and he would never see them again. He went up to Enjolras, who was engaged in a doubtlessly fascinating conversation with Grantaire, and reached down to hook his chin over his shoulder.

"Enj," he groaned. "I'm in agony."

Enjolras looked concerned. "What kind of agony? You're not going to throw up, are you?"

"No, this is an agony of the soul."

Grantaire looked at him curiously. "What's the matter?"

Courfeyrac was beginning to get a crick in his neck from leaning over. He straightened up and went to lean on Grantaire instead. "Remember Jehan?" he said. "Well, they're not here, and I feel like they'll never be here, and I'll never see them again, and everything's terrible!"

Grantaire stroked his hair soothingly. "There there. It'll be okay."

"We're still missing another person too," said Enjolras helpfully. "I'm sure they're just late. They'll be here!"

"You hear that?" Grantaire made an emoji-style okay sign. "It'll all work out!"

Courfeyrac felt slightly cheered for a second, but he was immediately brought back down again when Combeferre came over. "It's 6:35," he said. "We should probably get started, with or without Jehan and Feuilly."

"No!" Courfeyrac was alarmed. "Let's just wait a little more, please!"

Combeferre gave him a look. "Courf…" he warned.

Courfeyrac stuck out his chin and got ready to argue. He wasn't intending to go down without a fight. Before he could start his brilliant defense, however, the door opened, and everyone turned around to look. At first, Courfeyrac only saw Feuilly, and his stomach sank, but then he caught sight of Jehan, clinging to his sleeve and using him as a human shield while they looked around with wide, terrified eyes. Combeferre, Grantaire, and Enjolras all flashed him thumbs-ups (which he did his best to ignore), and he walked over to welcome them in.

"Hey guys," he called, doing his best to sound non-threatening. Feuilly waved cheerfully.

"Hey, man! Courfeyrac, right?"

"Wow, you remember! I'm impressed!"

Feuilly laughed, and behind him, Jehan gave a tiny, adorable smile. "Actually, I gotta admit, I went on the Facebook group and tried to match names and faces. That's not creepy, right?"

"Totally not creepy!" Courfeyrac wondered if Jehan had done this as well, and if so, what they had thought of him. "Well, why don't you come in, you guys? Enj and 'Ferre are eager to start rehearsal."

"I hope you weren't waiting," said Feuilly, looking worried.

"Not at all! Come on!" He led them into the room, and Jehan didn't let go of Feuilly's sleeve, but they did look a little less nervous, so Courfeyrac took that as a success. He was introducing them to some of the other members of the ABC (including Bahorel, who, it transpired, had knocked Jehan over on Bruin Walk earlier that day) when Combeferre came up to them looking impatient.

"Do you see those two?" He pointed to Enjolras and Grantaire, who were staring deeply into each others' eyes like the principal leads for a bad romantic comedy. Enjolras was even blushing. "I never want to third-wheel them again, I'm telling you. One minute, they're arguing about political philosophy like normal human beings, and the next, they're all Disney soundtracks and heart eyes. _You find Hegel's concept of phenomenology to be inherently flawed? So do I! Oh my gosh!_ I mean I love them both, I really do, but there's only so much I can work with here."

"We were gone like seven minutes," Courfeyrac protested.

"Time is meaningless when it comes to love," said Combeferre gloomily. "Those two are efficient, let me tell you."

"Aww." Courfeyrac smiled fondly. "Our little baby is leaving the nest and getting himself a man. Doesn't it bring a tear to your eye?"

Combeferre tried to look grumpy, but he couldn't keep the affection out of his voice when he agreed. "Yeah, it is cute. I'm calling best man for their wedding, though."

"I'll fight you for it," Courfeyrac started to say, but before he could go on, he was arrested by a sweet little peal of laughter that was so goddamn _melodious_ that whatever point he'd been trying to make completely left his head. Jehan had come out from behind Feuilly's elbow, and was watching the conversation unfold with delight. Even though they were covering their mouth with one hand, Courfeyrac could see that they had the loveliest smile he'd ever had the pleasure of witnessing, and he made up his mind that he would do whatever he could to give this human embodiment of sunshine every possible opportunity for joy. Combeferre seemed charmed too. He smiled at them, and asked,

"Do you want to go formally meet the two lovebirds?"

"If we aren't bothering them too much," said Feuilly with a laugh, and Jehan nodded excitedly in assent.

"Come on then!" Combeferre led them over, and Courfeyrac followed, doing his best to calm his fluttering heartbeat. As they reached the wall where Enjolras and Grantaire were standing, he caught a bit of their conversation.

"…And humanity is, of course. But wouldn't you agree that the romanticization of the state of nature is inherently problematic?"

"I would never romanticize it, and I'm not suggesting we do so. But you won't even entertain the possibility–"

Ah, so they were talking about philosophy again. Just as well; he didn't feel as if he was interrupting a moment of pure romance now. Although with these two, one never knew. He went up to them and laid a hand on each of their shoulders.

"Fun conversation you're having there?"

Both of them looked at him and blinked as if they had just realized there were other people in the world.

"Did rehearsal start?" asked Grantaire.

"Not yet, no thanks to you guys," teased Courfeyrac. He gestured to Feuilly and Jehan. "Have you met our newest ABCs yet? This is Feuilly and Jehan, and they're both wonderful. Guys, these are Enjolras and Grantaire, and they argue way too much about, well, everything, but they're super cool."

"Nice to meet you," murmured Jehan. They had ducked back behind Feuilly, and Courfeyrac couldn't blame them. Enjolras and Grantaire were fairly intimidating, especially as a package deal.

"I heard some of the stuff you guys were saying," said Feuilly amiably. "It sounded pretty interesting. I always thought there was more to Locke than people talk about, both good and bad."

Both Enjolras and Grantaire turned to him with wide smiles on their faces. "That's so true!" they exclaimed in tandem, then looked at each other in amazement. Courfeyrac cooed.

"You guys are the cutest."

Enjolras looked flustered, but Grantaire just smirked.

"Damn right."

Courfeyrac would have left them to continue their courtship, especially since it would give him a chance to talk to Jehan, but Combeferre nudged him.

"Rehearsal, remember?"

Right, there was that.

"Okay everyone!" Courfeyrac adopted his best theatre voice. "Let's start this thing!"

Everyone cheered, and Bahorel demonstrated one of his impressive yodels. "You got it!" shouted Eponine.

"We're going to arrange by sections," Courfeyrac went on. "Everyone has two part-partners, so it should be easy. Now! Basses go in the back left, tenors in the back right, and baritones in the middle. Altos, you're in front of the tenors, and sopranos, you're in front of the basses. Everyone got it? Good! Now go!" He watched to make sure everyone was more or less in the right place before making his way over to his own seat. Looking about, he was relieved to see that Eponine had taken Jehan under her wing, and was happily commenting that now she and her brother weren't the smallest people in the group anymore. Jehan didn't seem to mind this, and had lost the worried look they'd been wearing ever since they'd arrived. Enjolras, who was the only person not sitting down at this point, faced everyone.

"I'm really happy that you're here," he said. "We were perfect before, but now we're even better than that. I can tell we're going to do amazingly! Guys, we might have to practice pretty hard, but we're entering into a beautiful world of harmony and musicality, and we'll do our best to make sure that everyone is happy. And I know we can do it, if we all work together. So let's do our best!"

Combeferre and Grantaire started applauding, and Courfeyrac joined in enthusiastically. Enjolras was really such an adorable zealous little ducky.

"So, first things first, we sort of have some music already," Enjolras continued. "But since not everyone got a chance to vote on it, we didn't think it was really fair to keep learning it. So what we're going to do is show everyone a recording of the pieces so you can all see if it's something you want to do or not. If not, really, don't hesitate to suggest something else, or even just say you don't like it. We're always open to ideas! Does that sound okay?"

"That's perfect," said Feuilly, and Bahorel shouted several expletives, which Courfeyrac assumed meant he agreed. Enjolras, visibly happy at this easy acceptance of his push for democracy, bounced over to his laptop and turned on the recordings. There were only three pieces, and they weren't terribly underground, so Courfeyrac wasn't surprised to see everyone nodding along and humming to themselves. When the little concert had finished, Enjolras turned off his computer and faced the crowd.

"So, who's in favor of changing up our literature?"

Courfeyrac thought he looked a little bit hopeful. Last year, he and Grantaire had banded together to choose ridiculously complicated and obscure songs for the group, and they had both been so happy that no one had the heart to tell them that their choices were altogether too difficult. Probably, he was hoping that someone would object to the admittedly bland song list for this year, and he could have a chance to dig up some weird indie madrigals again. No one said anything for a minute, and then Bahorel spoke up loudly.

"Yo I'm not hating, but that's some conventional-ass shit you got there."

"Isn't it though?" Enjolras looked excited. "It's very mainstream, isn't it?"

Bahorel looked bemused. "Why are you agreeing with me?"

"I thought it was nice in general," said Feuilly. "But for a group like this one, wouldn't it be fun to choose something more eclectic? We all come from such diverse backgrounds; I'm sure we could find something really cool, and it would sound great."

Enjolras looked like he'd just been handed a jury duty summons. "You're so right! There's no reason we shouldn't do something exciting and different. And it really would reflect our group's personalities so much better, wouldn't it? Oh! And maybe we could even do our own arrangements!" His smile grew even more radiant. "Maybe a five-part antiphonal piece with contrapuntal harmony? Or we could do a fifteen-part thing, it might be ambitious, but it would be beautiful, and I know we could pull it off. Oh my gosh, I know people who could write an original piece for us, maybe, wouldn't that just be perfect? I wonder if we could do a collaboration…" He fell silent in consideration, every inch of him glowing with uncontainable glee. Courfeyrac saw that Grantaire was looking at him adoringly, as if he'd found everything he was looking for in life. Maybe he had. Love really was something, after all.

Seeing that Enjolras was too distracted to continue, Combeferre cleared his throat and spoke up. "So, is that a consensus? We're all going to try to find other pieces?"

"Fuck yeah," shouted Bahorel, and "If that's okay," agreed Feuilly somewhat more mildly.

"What about you two?" Combeferre looked at Floréal and Jehan. "What do you guys think?"

"I'm sort of ambivalent, honestly," said Floréal with a shrug. "But I'm pretty good at arranging music, so if someone wants a new take on a piece or something, I'd be happy to help."

"I think someone here would be happy about that." Combeferre gestured at Enjolras, who was still absorbed in a rosy daydream. "Thanks, Floréal."

"No problem. I'm just glad to be of service."

"What about you, Jehan?" Consciously or unconsciously, Combeferre made his voice a little softer, probably afraid of scaring the little waif. "Are you okay with all this?"

"Um." Jehan blushed at the sudden attention. "I totally love unconventional pieces, and I think they'd suit us better too, so I like this idea! Oh, not that your other ones were bad or anything! But, I just, um, yeah." They trailed off, looking embarrassedly at the floor. Combeferre didn't push it.

"Great," he said. "We're decided, then? We'll look for stuff to do, and discuss it at the next rehearsal. Nobody has to look for anything if they don't want to, but of course you're free to find as much stuff as you want. I know we're all busy, so I don't want to weigh you all down."

Courfeyrac decided it was time for him to do his part. "I set up a Google docs page, so we can put our choices on there," he said. "That way, we can all look and see if we like them or whatever. I also made a group text just now, so we can talk and be friends and stuff. Does that sound good?" His phone vibrated in his hand as half-a-dozen people used the new group message to text him their affirmations all at once. "Okay then, you cheeky little nerds. It's all settled!"

"I know this was a short rehearsal," Combeferre said.

"And we didn't even do any singing," put in Courfeyrac.

"But you can expect a longer one next time," continued Combeferre. "And we'll definitely work on stuff then. I hope you all got a chance to meet each other!"

"We're all friends now," finished Courfeyrac. "Now go in happiness, my children!"

This hadn't been bad for a first rehearsal, he thought, looking around at everyone as they began to mill around again and talk amongst themselves. They'd gotten sorted, and had a chance to make friends with each other, and really, that was about all one could expect for the first week of a new group. He looked over at Jehan, who was talking with Cosette and Eponine and looking perfectly happy to be there, and his heart swelled. This was going to be the best year ever.


	6. Time Lapse

Eponine looked around her with a small hum of contentment. After spending a hellish three weeks at home with her family, there was nothing quite like being back with her friends, whom she now appreciated more than ever.

"I don't mean to be weird," she said, as soon as there was a lull in the conversation, "But I love you guys a whole bunch."

"Aww, we love you too!" Jehan, threw their tiny arms around her neck and gave her a big kiss on the cheek. "Don't we, guys?" They turned to look threateningly at the rest of the group, all of whom nodded precipitately.

"Obviously," said Musichetta. "I wouldn't even sell you out to the mafia. Probably."

Eponine cooed. "Chetta, you're getting soft. You must love us a lot!"

Musichetta threw a napkin at her, but somehow hit Bossuet instead, smearing barbecue sauce onto his nose. "Oops, sorry love."

This pleasant scene was interrupted when Bahorel let out a sharp yell. Immediately, everyone jumped to attention. Bahorel was prone to shouting quite a bit, but they'd all learned from experience to pay attention when he emitted a sound like this.

"Shit, man." Eponine got ready to fight the entire establishment, whoever that might be. "What's happening?"

Bahorel punched the table, hard enough to make the dishes rattle. "It's the goddamn establishment, that's what," he growled. "I'm gonna– I'm gonna fucking…"

Feuilly laid a calming hand on his arm. "It's nothing to worry about, you guys."

"Nothing to worry about!" Bahorel's face turned a strange shade of purple. "Listen to him, 'nothing to worry about' he says. This fucker right here–" He broke off, overcome with fury, then raised his voice so that everyone at the table could hear (though undoubtedly they could already). "The goddamn university has the nerve, the fucking nerve– they've got the balls to steal Feuilly's apartment from him! Fucking fascists, acting like they own the place!"

"Technically, they do." said Feuilly.

Bahorel went on as if he hadn't heard, which he probably hadn't. "It's the middle of winter, man! But do they care about that? Of course they don't! They're just gonna kick him to the curb, just like that. I knew these guys were a bunch of greedy lowdown pigs, but this is going too far. I'm going to punch someone and fix this. Fucking ridiculous! Just, just… Fucking shit, man." He pulled Feuilly onto his lap, squeezing him tightly. "We're not going to let them get away with this, bro! I'm telling ya!"

Some of the others seemed touched by this display of solidarity, but Enjolras was immediately all business. Nothing got his attention more than evil deeds by the establishment. "Are you serious?" he asked. "They can't do that. What's their rationale?"

"Oh." Feuilly looked a little sheepish. "Well see, I can't really afford to pay my housing bill, so…"

"That's no excuse!" Bahorel squeezed him even more tightly in his fervor, and Feuilly squeaked. "You have a full scholarship! They can't take that away!"

"They're not taking my scholarship," said Feuilly. "They're taking my housing."

"They can't do that either!"

Marius, with his gift for being completely tactless, spoke up next. "How come you don't have money, though? Don't you have like three jobs?"

"Marius!" Cosette gasped, scandalized. "You can't ask people things like that!"

"It's fine." Feuilly looked more weary than upset. "I do work a lot, yeah, but I had a big hospital bill to pay last month from when I got sick. And I recently lost my job at the bar, so I'm stuck."

"But why did you lose your bar job?" pressed Marius. "You were good at it, weren't you?"

"I guess, but my boss said I didn't look tough enough to scare people off when they got rowdy." Feuilly sighed. "I mean, I guess he was right, but I'm still not happy about it."

"Of course not!" Jehan came over and jumped onto Bahorel's lap as well, curling up against them both. "I think you're very tough, by the way. Just saying."

Feuilly ruffled their hair. "Thanks, sweetie."

Eponine thought it was time for her to bring her perspective into this conversation. After all, she'd experienced her own share of homelessness. "When are they kicking you out?" she asked. "And is it non-negotiable?"

"This week," replied Feuilly. "Um, tomorrow, actually. And yeah. I can reapply, but there's no guarantee they'll give me anything."

"What?" Bahorel turned purple again. "Tomorrow? Why didn't you say anything?"

"I didn't want to bother you," said Feuilly quietly. "And besides, I thought I could get it straightened out by now."

"Well." Eponine clapped her hands determinedly. "No sense in crying about it now. Let's take care of this. What do you need?"

/

An hour later, Eponine, Bahorel, Grantaire, and Feuilly were sitting in Cosette's dorm room, ready to make a plan of action. Enjolras had insisted on coming along as well, and was sitting cross-legged on the couch watching interestedly, while Cosette sat behind him making tiny braids in his hair.

"Are you sure you don't want to bring 'Parnasse into this?" Grantaire pulled out his phone. "I can text him. He'd be happy to help."

Eponine grimaced. "No, he'd just suggest that we kill someone."

"That's what I'm suggesting," said Bahorel, still looking like he might do exactly that.

Cosette shot a hair tie at him. "No killing people in my room!"

"What if I just punch 'em real good?"

Eponine cleared her throat. "Let's get back on task on hand here, guys. So, the question is whether we want to petition for a holdover, reapply for housing next week, or find somewhere else to live entirely. Either way, we'll need the cash pretty much now."

"That's the problem," said Feuilly. "I don't have any way of getting that much money at one shot, especially at the last minute like this."

"How much do you need?" Bahorel began counting on his fingers. "I could probably get you a couple hundred if I fought in the pit a few times."

"Oh no you don't." Feuilly pointed at him sternly. "You're not doing that for me, no way."

"How much interest do you have in being strictly legal all the time?" asked Eponine, before Bahorel could start arguing. "I could definitely hook you up with something, but I don't know if you would want to go for it."

"I don't," said Feuilly quickly. "But thank you though!"

Bahorel made a face. "You don't even know what she was going to suggest."

"But I know that I don't want to break the law."

"Hey now." Bahorel winked at him. "It's not breaking the law if you don't get caught."

"Yes, it really is!"

"Wait dude, I just thought of something." Eponine punched Feuilly's shoulder to get his attention. "How much art shit do you have ready to go right now?"

"Art shit? What do you mean?"

"Literally anything you make."

"Oh." Feuilly thought for a minute. "I have quite a bit, actually. Why?"

"I could probably fence it for you. There's some guys I know who like that kind of stuff."

"But is it good enough for that?" Feuilly looked worried. "I mean, I just make things, I'm not really amazing or anything."

"Don't listen to him," interrupted Bahorel, and Enjolras nodded vigorously.

"He's wonderful!"

Feuilly shook his head. "Grantaire's better."

Grantaire opened his mouth to protest, and Eponine decided to step in before the boys could start having one of their mutual admiration sessions. She knew from experience exactly how long those could last, especially with Bahorel and Enjolras here to egg them on. "I've seen the stuff you make," she said. "It's fucking amazing, okay? Trust me. Now, are you willing to sell it?"

"Of course, if someone will buy it," said Feuilly. "I mean, I already do sell things, sometimes."

"Great!" Eponine pulled her notebook out of her bag. "Write down what you have here. I'll try to price it based on that. Unless you have pictures, by any chance?"

Feuilly shook his head, but Enjolras spoke up happily, "I have some!"

"Oh, right." Feuilly grinned at him. "Last time he came over, he took pictures of every single art-related thing in my house. I still don't really understand why."

"Because they're amazing!"

Eponine rolled her eyes. "You're such a dork. Do you write inspirational speeches about friendship in your free time too?"

"Oh, well now that you mention it…"

Cosette pinched his cheek. "Work first, speeches later. Text Ep your pictures, you dork."

"Right, okay!" Enjolras went to work immediately, searching determinedly through his undoubtedly oversized photo gallery.

Eponine looked up from her phone. "It's like you read my mind," she said. "Thanks, Cosette."

"Of course."

"Aww." Bahorel fluttered his eyelashes. "Look at you guys, all psychic and everything."

"Quick, Eponine," Grantaire pointed at her. "What's Cosette thinking about? Alcohol? Cars? A certain beautiful man?"

"More like a certain beautiful woman," mumbled Cosette.

Eponine wasn't sure she'd heard that right. "What?"

"What?"

Grantaire looked at Eponine, then at Cosette, whose face was now a delicate shade of pink. "Telepathy at its finest," he said. "But I can totally top that. Who wants to see me fit my entire fist inside my mouth?"

All attention shifted to this new sensation. Eponine thought Cosette looked relieved, and she wondered why. She resolved to ask Grantaire about it later; he had always been good at reading the nuances of social situations.

Enjolras finally began to send her the pictures, and soon, she had a whole gallery full of art pieces of all varieties. Looking them over, she could see that Feuilly really was talented. He had a style all his own, and his work was unique in the best way possible. These would definitely sell.

"I'm pretty sure I can get you at least 500 for all this," she said.

Feuilly looked dismayed. "500?"

"Well yeah, obviously I'll try to go higher. That's just the lowest potential figure."

"No, that's not what I meant!" Feuilly tugged at his ear abashedly. "It's just, um. I don't think it's good enough to get that much. Is it?"

Eponine looked at it again critically, more for show than anything else. Then she nodded decisively. "Yeah, it is."

Bahorel took advantage of Feuilly's flustered silence to speak up. "So we'll probably need a few hundred more, just to be safe. Is there anything else we can sell?"

"Oh!" Grantaire snapped his fingers. "I can't believe I didn't think of this earlier. There's this friend of a friend of– well, I don't know anymore, to be honest. But anyway, he's getting married, and he wants a fancy-schmancy ceremony with live music and stuff. And he's loaded, so he can roll a couple hundred easy. I can get you the gig, if you can provide music for a few hours."

"What kind of music?"

"I don't know. Probably nothing too weird. Do you play any instruments, by any chance?"

"I can sort of play guitar."

"He taught himself," interjected Bahorel. "Cuz he's just rad like that."

"Oh my gosh!" Cosette bounced up and down on her couch. "Guys, let's all do this! We can help out, and Feuilly can keep the money. It would be good publicity for us!"

"I can't keep the money," Feuilly protested.

"Of course you can," said Bahorel, somewhat distractedly. "You know, this is a great idea. We're all musical and stuff, so we can totally make it happen. They're gonna love us!"

"That's true," said Eponine thoughtfully. "I mean, a whole bunch of you play instruments. Jehan can bring their flute, and there's probably a piano for Marius somewhere, and I'm sure Chetta would bring her cello if we asked…"

"Grantaire plays like ten different instruments," Enjolras chimed in. "He can do anything!"

"No I can't," muttered Grantaire, but he looked pleased. "Besides, don't you play piano? You're the one who'd be the most useful."

"No, that's you!"

Cosette gave Eponine a significant look. "They're so cute," she mouthed over Enjolras's head.

"I'm gonna text everyone right now!" Bahorel whipped out his phonevand began to spam the ABC group text with alternating pleas for assistance and extravagant threats of what would happen if these pleas went unanswered. "We'll get 'em all, don't worry."

Cosette smiled brightly at her friends. "I've never done anything like this before! Isn't it exciting?"

The others agreed enthusiastically, but Eponine looked down, wishing she could say the same. She'd gone to weddings before, but always for the purpose of an elaborate scam of some kind, or, less frequently, because someone important in the criminal underworld was making a marriage of convenience. Her parents, desperate social climbers that they were, always tried to make use of their children to play up their own position, and none of them had any good memories of these events.

"Is this really okay?" Feuilly asked worriedly, breaking into her thoughts. "I don't want to drag you guys into my mess. You really don't have to do this."

"But we want to, though!" Bahorel grabbed him in an exuberant embrace. "You're our bro, you know? So we're gonna take care of you. Simple as that!"

"Aww, you guys…"

Bahorel squished him even more tightly. "Hey now, none of that! Come on, bro. This is what we're here for."

Cosette leapt off the bed, dragging Enjolras with her. "Group hug!" She pulled everyone over to Bahorel with surprising strength, and threw her arms around them all. "Come on, guys! Show the love!"

"I love you all," roared Bahorel, easily including them all in his reach. "You're the best bros in the world, okay!"

Enjolras and Grantaire took this opportunity to snuggle up together, not paying attention to anything except each other. Eponine would have laughed at them, but she was distracted by Cosette's close proximity. Had her hair always smelled like vanilla? Marius was definitely a lucky man. She ignored the inexplicable stab of emotion in her chest, and instead put her arms around as much of her pile of friends as she could reach. Bahorel was right; they really were the best friends in the world, and she was incredibly fortunate to have them all in her life.

/*

As it turned out, Bahorel's threats were unnecessary. Almost everyone was excited to do the wedding, especially Marius, who was addicted to everything romantic, and Joly, who had never been to a wedding before, and was practically beside himself at this opportunity to see one up close. Only Eponine was unenthusiastic, but Grantaire thought this made sense, given her family's record. Social events for the Thénardiers were never fun. Still, she'd tried hard to hide her trepidation, and worked with the others to get everything ready.

Grantaire was good at planning and executing things like this, but he always hated doing it because it took so much effort. Now, though, he had fourteen willing helpers (they had forbidden Feuilly from doing any work, telling him to focus on his other jobs), all ready to do whatever had to be done, and he was surprised at how smoothly it all turned out. Once he'd figured out the pieces they would do, he had put everyone to work making arrangements and compiling those arrangements into a setlist, and once the setlist was done, all that had to be done was practice.

He'd decided to balance vocal and instrumental pieces, which was surprisingly easy to do, because it seemed most of the members of the ABC played at least one instrument. Since he and Jehan could both play violin to some degree, and Musichetta was a classically trained cellist, they were able to do their own version of chamber music, with someone playing the viola part on piano. They'd agreed that this would work best for the ceremony itself, while the other, more unconventional arrangements would be better for background music at the reception. It was a lot of music to learn, but everyone threw themselves into it with a will, and by the time the wedding rolled around, they'd all managed to pull together a decent program.

Now, everyone was gathered in Cosette's room for a little pre-game party. The romance of the situation must have been contagious, because there was an extraordinarily high number of people behaving ridiculously. Joly was darting around, practically incandescent in his excitement, and sometimes hitting people with his cane, while Bossuet and Musichetta indulgently tried to calm him down. Eponine was talking earnestly to Cosette while Combeferre watched her sadly, Courfeyrac was flirting mightily with Jehan, and Marius was standing by himself, staring at the wall with a moonstruck expression. Grantaire didn't think there was anything particularly exciting about that wall, but obviously Marius did, because he'd been standing there for fifteen minutes now, and showed no signs of moving. Really, he thought, love made people do ridiculous things. He turned to Bahorel, who was loudly declaiming about how good he looked in a suit, and punched his arm to get his attention.

"Not that I don't think you're wildly handsome, bro," he said. "But do you wanna go– ?"

"–Talk to Enjolras?" finished Bahorel, looking amused.

"No!" Bahorel raised one eyebrow. "Well, yes. But not in a weird way or anything."

"Man, whatcha talking 'bout? That's the best kind of way!" Bahorel slapped him on the back. "Come on, I'll talk to Feuilly, and you can chat up your lil honey bunch."

"He's not my– "

"Yeah, yeah. Come on now." He dragged Grantaire over to the other side of the room, where Enjolras and Feuilly were engaged in an animated discussion.

"Hey babes." Bahorel threw an arm around each of them. "What's the hot topic today?"

Feuilly and Enjolras beamed. "Math!"

"Again? You nerds! Why don't you talk about something fun for once?"

"Oh, but we are." Enjolras sounded scarily sincere. "We're talking about possible algorithms for tiling problems!"

Bahorel looked at them skeptically. "Why?"

"Why not?"

"Fair point." Bahorel took Feuilly by the elbow and pulled him away. "I'm going to borrow this one for a bit. You two have fun!" He waved at Grantaire, and, unfortunately, winked. "Go get 'em!"

Enjolras smiled brightly at him as Bahorel and Feuilly wandered off. "Hi R!"

Holy shit, he was gorgeous. It was like looking into the sun. Grantaire cleared his throat. "Uh, hey there, sunshine." Enjolras looked up at him hopefully. _Oh crap, he probably wants to talk about math._ Grantaire didn't want to let him down, but he also knew he couldn't hold a conversation on the subject to save his life. "So, uh, sorry to disappoint you," he said. "But I'm absolute shit at math, so I can't really be a replacement Feuilly. But if you want to talk about domino tilings, I'll totally listen to you." He thought Enjolras would be annoyed or disgusted or even turn and walk away, so he was surprised to see a lovely smile bloom across his angel face.

"Really?"

"Um." How was it possible for anyone to be so radiant? "Yeah, of course. I mean, I offered, didn't I?"

"No one ever offers. You're amazing!" Enjolras reached out and tugged at his sleeve. "And I don't want you to be a replacement Feuilly. I want you to be y-you, um…" He trailed off, blushing furiously. Grantaire didn't think he'd ever met anyone so cute. Before he could say anything, though, Enjolras stumbled on. "But! Um, anyway! You're a philosophy minor, so you have to do some math stuff, don't you? Just without the numbers."

"That's not really math, though."

"Of course it is! It's all the same concepts, no matter what form they're in."

Trust Enjolras to turn this discussion into a statement about equality. Grantaire chuckled fondly.

"You're really something, you know that?"

"You know what else is really something?" Montparnasse sidled up, probably having waited for a particularly dramatic moment to make his entrance. Grantaire sighed.

"What, 'Parnasse?"

"My ass."

Grantaire looked at him sternly. "Bro I love you and all, but if you came over just to tell me that, I'm going to punch you right in the face."

"Oh, am I interrupting something?" Montparnasse grinned wolfishly. "Sorry about that, babe. I promise to make it quick." Honestly, there were limits. Grantaire cracked his knuckles and tried his best to look threatening, but this elicited nothing more than a laugh and a pat on the head. "You're the cutest. So, here's the thing. We're kind of in a mess, because the guy who was supposed to take us there just got arrested, so unless you got two grand for bail, we're kind of stuck."

"Aww, crap." This was the problem with relying on Montparnasse's crowd for anything. "Why is his bail so high, anyway? What did he do?"

"Fuck knows."

"Well, okay." Grantaire tried to think. Who else would be around on short notice? "What about Babet? Doesn't she have that giant-ass van?"

"It got impounded."

"Seriously?" This was too much. "Okay, let's ask Eponine. I'm sure she'll be able to figure something out." There was no one like Eponine for finding a way out of insolvable situations, after all.

Montparnasse grimaced. "She's talking to Cosette. I don't want to bother her."

"But you're fine with bothering me?" _What a dick._

"You know it's cuz I love you, man!"

"Okay, dumbass," Grantaire punched him lightly on the arm. "Let's go get this done." He turned to Enjolras, who had been watching this exchange with undisguised interest. "Come on, wanna put those pre-law convincing skills to work?" Enjolras smiled at him.

"Okay!"

As they followed Montparnasse over to Eponine, Grantaire couldn't help but think that maybe his interruption hadn't been so ill-timed. Nothing brought people closer than working together to solve a crisis, right? This could totally work out happily after all.


	7. this is weird wtf

/read the notes/

(pls)

This was totally not working out.

After a long and frightening ride in an ancient performance-art-piece car, during which Joly had made himself sick and Marius had nearly cried, the ABC had arrived at a revamped– but not improved– warehouse, smack in the middle of the worst part of the city. Courfeyrac wasn't sure what was worse, the actual area, or the mixture of fear and fascination on almost everyone's faces. Marius, in particular, looked utterly terrified.

"Is that a crackhouse?" he whispered, pointing to the admittedly seedy-looking establishment across the street. "I don't think I'm supposed to go inside a crackhouse."

"You don't have to go inside it," Grantaire reassured him. "In fact, please don't."

"I don't like it here," whined Marius. "I want to go home."

Grantaire looked like he wanted Marius to go home too. "Well, buck up, buddy," he said. "We'll be done here soon, and then Feuilly can get paid, and everything will be right nice."

Marius didn't look convinced, but he didn't get a chance to protest, because Grantaire's friend-of-a-friend-of-a-who-knows-what-all chose that moment to show up. He was a little more terrifying than Courfeyrac had thought he would be, and he was covered with what looked disturbingly like bloodstains. Courfeyrac gulped. Why had he agreed to this again?

"Little R! And Ep too!" Grantaire's friend opened his arms as if he wanted to give them a hug. Both Grantaire and Eponine sidestepped him neatly. "It's so good to see you two! And is this 'Parnasse? I almost didn't recognize you! You've certainly seen better days." Montparnasse looked offended.

"I'll make you see better days," he mumbled.

Grantaire's friend was still going on. "Sorry to have called all of you out here like this! The fact is, we don't actually have a wedding for you. Unforeseen circumstances, I'm sure you understand."

Grantaire groaned in dismay. "And you couldn't have told us this earlier?"

"Sorry, lil' R. But you know, it's okay."

"No it's not!"

"The fact is, we do have a job for you still, if you're up for it," continued the man calmly, taking no notice. "It's a little different from what you were expecting, but you look like smart kids. I'm sure you could handle it."

"Maybe. Is the pay the same?"

"We'll ratchet it up a little more, actually. We can afford a little expense now, you see?"

Courfeyrac wasn't sure he wanted to know what this meant. He watched as Grantaire and Eponine held a brief conference, hoping they were sensible enough not to get everyone killed. Eventually, Grantaire looked up.

"Fine, we'll do it."

The man clapped him on the shoulder. "I knew I could count on you!" He pulled out a phone and began to text his associates, telling them that everything was taken care of (a fact that Courfeyrac only knew because this frightening criminal was apparently the type of person to read his texts aloud as he wrote them). "It shouldn't take you long. Can you get started right away?"

"Yeah, no problem," said Eponine. "So what is it you want us to do?"

The man's grin was highly unsettling. "Nothing much. We just need you to get rid of a body."

/

In hindsight, Courfeyrac knew he should have been expecting something like this. Grantaire and Eponine didn't discuss their backgrounds much, but over the time he'd known them, they'd let enough slip that he could piece together parts of an unsavory story. Since they both seemed to be safe now, and they weren't willing to talk about the gritty details of their pasts, he'd never pried, convinced that they would share what they wanted when they were ready. Now, it seemed that they were ready, at least to some degree. Grantaire went to discuss the job with his friend, while Eponine addressed the frightened-looking ABC at large.

"Okay, guys. Not going to lie, this isn't a fun job. Not everyone's up for it, and that's as it should be. But if anyone really wants to help, they're welcome, although I have to warn you, it'll probably traumatize you for awhile."

There was silence for a second as the group considered this. Then, Feuilly raised his hand.

"I haven't exactly done this, per se," he said. "But I know some things. And since it's my fault you're here, I'd like to help, if that's okay."

Courfeyrac wondered, somewhat horrified, what things Feuilly knew, and where he'd had a chance to pick up this knowledge. He'd had a rough past; everyone knew this, but it seemed he hadn't been completely forthcoming on exactly how rough.

Unperturbed, Eponine simply nodded. "Okay, good. Anyone else?"

"I'll go." Bahorel raised his hand.

This was less surprising. Bahorel was good in a tough situation, and he and Feuilly were almost as inseparable as Enjolras and Combeferre. Speaking of… Courfeyrac turned to look at his best friends, hoping they were handling everything okay. They were; Enjolras didn't like blood or gore, but he'd been around too many protests and police stations to be too frightened by something like this, and Combeferre looked as calm and collected as ever. In fact, he was raising his hand– what was he doing? Before Courfeyrac could stop him, he'd gone over to Feuilly and Bahorel.

"I'll help too," he said.

Eponine looked startled. "You?"

"I'm premed; it's not like I've never seen a body before."

"Good point." Eponine scratched her chin thoughtfully. "Okay, we'd be glad of the help. But if it's too much for ya, don't feel bad about backing out."

Combeferre squared his shoulders. "I won't back out."

Courfeyrac hoped he wasn't doing all this just to look good in front of Eponine. There were definitely better ways of impressing people. Although, would Jehan think he was cool if he volunteered? He briefly considered doing so, then thought better of it. Someone had to stay here and protect the group after all.

"Okay." Grantaire joined Eponine in front of the group. "We're going to take care of this. Montparnasse will stay with the rest of you for a precaution, but I'm sure you'll be fine, so don't worry. Stay in the car, and stay together, and when we get back, we'll leave. Sound good?"

"Keep the windows closed and the doors locked, and try not to draw too much attention to yourselves," added Eponine. "And really, don't worry. We know what we're doing. We'll have you back home before you know it."

"Everyone out!" Montparnasse herded the group towards the door. "Move your butts, guys!"

"Stop pushing, jeez." Gavroche wriggled out of his grasp, evading everyone's attempts to catch him, and ran over to Eponine. "Ep, can't I help? I've done this before, you know!"

"Once. You've done it once. And no."

"Aww, come on!" Gavroche stuck out his tongue. "I'd be helping!"

Courfeyrac gave Enjolras a pointed look, and he nodded. Together, they descended on Gavroche, each taking an arm.

"Not today, kiddo," Courfeyrac said. "Ep's got this all taken care of."

"They're going to be done really quick, so you won't have to wait too long," added Enjolras. "And it should be faster if there aren't as many people."

Gavroche pouted. "Fine! But you better come back!"

Eponine reached over to ruffle his hair. "You don't have to worry about that."

She and Grantaire led Combeferre, Feuilly, and Bahorel out the back door, briefing them on the situation as they went. None of them looked particularly happy, and Courfeyrac was thankful that he hadn't volunteered. There were just some things that people couldn't be expected to do on short notice. As he and the rest of the group followed Montparnasse to the car, he reflected that really, trauma-inducing criminal incidents aside, this hadn't been as bad as he'd been expecting. No one had gotten mugged, Marius hadn't gotten lost, and Enjolras hadn't managed to offend anyone. If they really did get paid for this, he was going to count the day as a success. Of course, the job was far from over, but he had confidence in Eponine's and Grantaire's capabilities. Everything would work out. He climbed into the car and squeezed in next to Jehan, who smiled at him, and snuggled up into his shoulder like the affectionate little kitten that they were. Immediately, all thoughts of criminal organizations and body disposals went out of his head, replaced by a pleasant sort of warm fuzziness. Who cared about the sketchy neighborhood? They could stay here forever, and he would be perfectly fine.

Courfeyrac had lost track of time, caught up in cuddling Jehan, but he was abruptly jolted back to reality when Eponine and the others burst into the car, covered in questionable stains, and looking like they'd just been to hell and back.

"Drive, 'Parnasse!" shouted Eponine, jumping into the front seat and not bothering to fasten her seatbelt. "We have to get out of here, now!"

Montparnasse didn't ask any questions. He revved the engine, and shot out of the parking lot, barely managing not to hit anything. Jehan didn't look like they minded this at all, but Courfeyrac, wondering vaguely when he was going to die, decided to shut his eyes for awhile. At least then he wouldn't see anything but his life flashing before his eyes when they inevitably crashed and exploded in a giant, dramatic fireball.

After awhile, they still hadn't had an accident, and Courfeyrac cautiously opened his eyes to see that they were on the freeway. Montparnasse was still driving, and now that he thought about it, Courfeyrac didn't think that he had a license (at least not one in his own name), but he decided not to question it. Too many illegal things had happened that day for him to be worried about something so trivial as civil disobedience. Grantaire and Eponine seemed to be perfectly at ease, and were happily chattering away, but the rest of the crime squad looked slightly ill, and not at all proud of themselves for successfully finishing their errand. Combeferre even looked a little green. Courfeyrac thought that if he were in Feuilly's place, no amount of payment could induce him to take on a job like this, even if he did have his friends by his side. Really, Feuilly was amazing. He definitely deserved some kind of celebration after this ordeal, and by extension, everyone else did too. What better excuse for a party than this? Courfeyrac waved dramatically to get everyone's attention.

"Hey guys," he said. "So I just had an amazing idea. We should totally go out tonight and get really drunk and forget this ever happened. Yeah?"

"Yeah!" Bahorel reached across the seat to punch him in the arm. "Abso-fuckin'-lutely we should!"

"I second that," called Eponine from the front seat, and "Me too!" chorused Joly and Bossuet.

"Great!" Courfeyrac felt more cheerful than he had all day. "Let's get out there, y'all, and paint it absolutely red!"

/*

"Are you drunk yet?"

Enjolras groaned. The creepy man in the fedora had been asking him this for the last hour, ever since he'd laid eyes on him, in fact. He'd tried to point out that as far as pick-up lines went, this wasn't a terribly good one, but his words hadn't had any effect. This was exactly why he shouldn't have let Courfeyrac pick an outfit for him; his looks always drew too much attention anyway, and wearing things like this made it even worse. Now he had a sweaty barfly following him around and trying to feel him up every two seconds.

"Listen." He turned to fix the creep with one of his best icy glares. "I don't want to talk to you, and in fact, I'd rather not be around you at all. It's none of your business whether or not I'm drunk, and frankly, it's creepy that you're even asking. You're disgusting, and I don't want you to bother me, or anyone else here, again. Do us all a favor and go to hell."

"Don't be such a frigid bitch." The man leered at him. "Have another drink. Maybe you'll feel more friendly then."

"Ew." Enjolras grimaced. How was it possible for anyone to be so repulsive? "First of all, your language is completely offensive. Maybe if you didn't talk like some kind of slimy sexist, you wouldn't have to hit on college students in order to get any human contact. Secondly, I can't believe you're entitled enough to continue talking to me even after I told you to leave me alone. Is this how you approach everything in life? Surprise– no means no, you objectifying prick. You have to learn to accept that, or else you're going to find yourself in a hell of a lot of trouble one day. Why don't you learn how to behave around people? Even someone with a tiny unevolved brain like yours is capable of learning the difference between 'stay' and 'go.' It's doubtful, but I think you might actually have a chance of functioning in society one day if you put your mind to it and stop harassing people. Now fuck off!"

The man stared at him, slightly open-mouthed. It was possible that he had never been harangued so thoroughly before; Enjolras knew that he was capable of being terrifying, and the people he yelled at often found it difficult to recover. Still, he wasn't worried that he'd gone too far. People like this man were a menace, and they deserved every diatribe they got. He was considering launching into another tirade, especially since his performance had attracted the attention of half the people in the bar (many of whom seemed to be of the same creepy variety as his current addressee), but before he could begin, Combeferre came up beside him and put a restraining hand on his shoulder.

"Okay, Enj, I think you made your point."

"But– "

Combeferre nodded subtly at the man, who seemed to be glued to the floor, and who was now sporting a rather noticeable dark spot on his pants.

"Oh."

Combeferre looked like he was trying not to laugh. "Let's go back to the group. I'm sure they'll be glad to have you safe with them."

He led Enjolras back over to the table where their friends were sitting, and sat them both down. Only after everyone had turned on him curiously did he fold his hands and solemnly proclaim,

"Enj yelled at a creep and made him piss his pants."

"What? Seriously?" Courfeyrac began to laugh. "You literally scared the poor dude that much? Sweetie, you gotta tone it down!"

"He was being gross," protested Enjolras. "And he kept using gendered slurs."

Courfeyrac shook his head. "I love you."

"I wish I could have seen this," spoke up Grantaire. "I'm sure it was something to remember."

"I mean, I hope so," said Enjolras. "That was kind of the point."

"What's the point?" Eponine came bouncing up to the table and wedged herself in between Enjolras and Combeferre. "Are we arguing? I like arguing. 'Specially when I'm drunk."

"You're not drunk, though."

"Sadly, no!" Eponine sighed theatrically. "Fuck my high tolerance for alcohol. I promise you, though, by the end of the night, I'm going to do my best to make it happen."

"I don't think they have enough alcohol in here for that," said Grantaire. Eponine slapped him.

"Like you're one to talk."

"Wait!" Courfeyrac sat bolt upright, and everyone turned to look at him. "Ep, where's Jehan?"

Eponine looked blankly around the table. "Shit. I thought they were with you."

"We thought they were with you!"

"Oh, this isn't good." Eponine got to her feet again. "They could get into a lot of trouble in here. C'mon, let's go look for them before anything happens."

"She can take care of herself pretty good," said Feuilly, but he got up quickly anyway. Bahorel was right on his heels. "Them perverts better hope they ain't messing with our duckling," he growled. "That kind of shit won't work 'round here."

He and Feuilly moved off in one direction, while Eponine and Courfeyrac went in the other. Enjolras watched them search nervously; he knew from personal experience how difficult it was to exist while pretty, even in everyday spaces, and this wasn't a nice place by any stretch of the imagination. It wasn't that he didn't trust Jehan to take care of herself– he knew that she was much tougher than she looked– but she was so small, and there were so many creepy people around. Hopefully, someone could find her before she got into trouble. As he scanned the room, a commotion at the bar drew his attention. Someone was shouting, and there was a sound of breaking glass. This wasn't all that uncommon for a place like this, but he thought he should check it out anyway.

"I'm going to see what happened," he told the table at large. "R, will you come with me?"

"Of course." Grantaire got to his feet. "You know I love a good bar fight."

"Be safe, you two," said Combeferre. "No punching people. No getting punched. And no throwing things. I'm talking to you, Enj."

Grantaire snickered. Enjolras rolled his eyes. "Okay, _mom_."

"Yeah, yeah," Combeferre replied, unimpressed. "Watch out for him would you, R?"

Grantaire started to reply, but his words were lost as everyone at the bar screamed, and the body of a fully grown man came hurtling across the floor.

"Oh shit!"

Combeferre leaped up to examine the man (who appeared to be out cold), and Enjolras and Grantaire looked at each other, round-eyed. This was more exciting than usual. Without another word, they hurried over to the bar to prevent any more damage from being done, then stopped short in amazement. This wasn't a situation they'd thought to prepare for.

On the floor in front of the bar was a remarkably burly man, whom Enjolras recognized as one of the most troublesome patrons of this particular establishment. Around him was a crowd of people in various states of inebriation, screaming and waving their glasses. And sitting on top of the man's chest, pinning him in a respectable headlock, was none other than sweet innocent little Jehan Prouvaire, looking understandably pleased with herself.

"What the fuck," said Grantaire, almost conversationally. Enjolras thought he sounded remarkably calm, given the particular circumstances. "Jehan, what in the name of all that's holy is going on?"

"Oh, hello." Jehan looked up at them serenely. "He and his friend tried to take me outside, and no one was really helping, so…"

"What do you mean take you– what are they– what?" Enjolras spluttered. He was having some difficulties processing all this. "Uh– are you okay?"

"I'm okay!" Jehan gave her would-be attacker one last punch in the nose, then jumped gracefully to her feet. "But I don't think I'm going to go off by myself anymore."

"Good– good idea," offered Enjolras feebly. Maybe he ought to get someone to buy him another drink. This was a lot to take in. Thankfully, Grantaire took control of the situation.

"Come on, let's go back to the others," he said, putting an arm around Jehan and Enjolras and steering them both back to the table. "They were all wondering where you'd got to."

Courfeyrac came running up to them as they neared the table, Eponine right behind him. "Jehan!" they called, Courfeyrac sounding panicked, and Eponine sounding fairly impressed.

"Are you okay?" continued Courfeyrac, reaching out to pull Jehan into a hug. "They didn't hurt you, did they?"

"Not at all! I'm perfectly fine!"

"She beat up some guy," added Enjolras, feeling that he ought to share the news. "Like, full-on smack down."

"Actually, I beat up two of them," said Jehan happily. "They weren't very nice, so I think they deserved it. I hope they don't try anything like that again."

Courfeyrac looked horrified. "Try anything like _what_?"

"They tried to take me outside," explained Jehan matter-of-factly. "I didn't like it."

Enjolras still wasn't sure what that meant, and judging by his expression, Courfeyrac didn't either.

"Is that a euphemism for something?" he asked.

"I guess so?" Jehan scratched her chin. "Um, well, I guess it means what you think it would mean. They wanted to do unpleasant things to me. But like, outside."

"You mean they wanted to abduct you?" Courfeyrac reached for Jehan again, and Enjolras noticed that his hands were shaking. He couldn't blame him for freaking out; this was one of the worst things that he could imagine happening to one of his friends. "Jehan, are you sure you're okay?"

Jehan nodded. "I'm totally fine. But it's so nice of you to worry about me!"

Courfeyrac didn't seem to have an answer for this. He just nodded in a fairly awestruck way, then kept on nodding when Grantaire took his arm.

"Come on, let's go back to the others," he said. "We need to let them know that Jehan is safe."

"I told them already," spoke up Eponine. Grantaire gave her a thumbs-up.

"Good thinking!"

The group made its way back to the table to sit down, joined by Bahorel and Feuilly, who insisted on on picking up Jehan and carrying her (much to her delight), and everyone greeted them with a rousing cheer.

"Here's the conquering warrior!" shouted Joly.

Cosette flung her arms around Jehan. "You're such a badass!" she cooed. "You should show me how to fight like that sometime!"

"Uh, guys?" Marius coughed apologetically. No one seemed to hear him.

"Let's have another round of drinks in celebration of our brave little fighter!" called Musichetta. "Bahorel's buying!"

"What? I'm fucking broke, dude!"

Marius coughed again. "Um, sorry. You guys?" Nobody seemed to have heard him any better than they had the first time, and Enjolras took pity on him.

"Guys, Marius has something to say," he announced, effectively capturing everyone's attention. Not for nothing was he the designated speech-maker of the group. Marius shot him a grateful look.

"Um, sorry to bother you," he said. "But, um, those people over there, they look, well, angry? At us, I mean, not in general. That would be okay."

Enjolras followed Marius's line of sight over to the bar, where a large group of intimidating-looking individuals had now gathered, all glaring, and looking extremely unfriendly. It was true, they did look angry, and the anger did seem to be directed in an unfortunate direction. Jehan squeaked in alarm.

"Oh no, are they mad because I beat up those guys? I'm so sorry!"

"It's okay," said Courfeyrac immediately. "It wasn't your fault."

"That's sweet, but it kind of was."

"We can take 'em." Bahorel cracked his knuckles. "Let 'em come! I'll show them a thing or two!"

"Yeah!" Eponine clenched her fists and did a few experimental jabs. "I got two things right here that I think they need to meet."

"No!" Jehan went to stand in their way, and she might have been a tiny forest elf with freckles and a high-pitched voice, but Bahorel and Eponine immediately backed down. "I don't want you guys to fight because of me! I would feel terrible. Maybe we should just leave before anything happens."

"I think it's too late for that," said Marius dolefully. Everyone turned back to the bar to see that the group of aggressors was now stalking towards them, wearing identical matching scowls.

"Aww, shit."

"Okay, new plan," said Eponine quickly, as the remaining members of the group got to their feet to deal with the threat. "We're doing the round-off. Bahorel, Chetta, get in front. 'Parnasse, R, you'll be with me behind them. Enj and Feuilly, you guys are backup, but try to leave the fighting to us. Courf and 'Ferre, you escort the others out, but try to duck and cover as much as you can. The rest of you, try to get out of here as quickly as you possible. Got it?"

Joly, Bossuet, Floréal, Cosette, and Marius looked put-out, but Jehan spoke up first. "No way! This is all my fault; I should be fighting too!"

Eponine looked at her sternly. "You're the one they're after. Hopefully, if you get out of here, they'll back off."

Jehan looked like she wanted to argue, but wasn't sure how. Cosette took advantage of her silence to interpolate. "Ep, I can fight too. I'll take Feuilly's place, and he can go with Jehan."

"Oh, Cosette…"

Cosette stuck out her chin. "There's no time for this now."

"That's for sure."

Eponine whirled around to see the group of antagonists standing flush in front of her. She didn't seem to be at all discomposed, but Enjolras was, and most of his friends seemed to be too. How had this happened? Usually, they were much better about stopping people from sneaking up on them.

Eponine crossed her arms and glared up defiantly at the attackers. "What the hell do you want?"

The largest man in the group indicated Jehan with a tilt of his head. "That little bitch pulled some nasty tricks just now. Give her to us, and we'll let the rest of you out of here with no problem."

"Oh, how scary!" Eponine pulled a mocking face. "Get lost, big guy. You're not getting any of us."

"Shut up!" The man pulled his fist back for a punch. Before it could land, however, Cosette dashed forward to stand in front of Eponine, and took the full weight of the blow. She didn't make any sound on impact, but everyone else did, and Jehan rushed over to her to kneel beside her on the floor.

"Cosette, oh my god, are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Cosette shook her head to clear it and struggled to sit up. "I got much worse back at the group home."

Enjolras knew that Cosette hadn't had a good childhood, but he hadn't known that it had been that bad. He only managed to tear his eyes away from her when Grantaire nudged him.

"Look at Eponine," he whispered.

Enjolras looked. Then he couldn't look away. Eponine was standing in front of Cosette now, and while she was intimidating at the best of times, now she looked completely furious. Her fists were clenched, and there was a fire in her eyes that bespoke all-encompassing wrath. She looked like some kind of ancient goddess of destruction.

"The dragon protecting the princess," murmured Grantaire, probably half to himself. "I really have to paint them the first chance I get."

They did certainly make a beautiful aesthetic together, but Enjolras wasn't convinced that this was the best thing to be focusing on. "Shouldn't we, I don't know, help her?" he asked.

Grantaire snorted. "Trust me, she doesn't need our help. If anything, those guys do. The last time I saw her this mad, she blew up a truck and leveled an entire storage unit."

"Wow." Although he knew Eponine and what she was capable of, Enjolras was still impressed. "How did she do that? Could she do it again, if we had to destroy government property or something?"

"Now who's got his priorities all mixed up?" Grantaire smiled at him playfully to take the sting out of the comment. Still, Enjolras was embarrassed. He should be focusing on his friends, not on some hypothetical situation in the future.

"There's a lot of them," he said, wincing internally at how obvious and silly it sounded. "Shouldn't we at least provide backup?"

"Oh, we will." Grantaire flexed casually, and Enjolras had to stop himself from staring like an idiot. This was a very serious situation, and there was no time to be daydreaming about how muscly and attractive his friends were, even if they were built amazingly and had perfect arms, and… Enjolras blushed and forced himself to look away. He really had to get better at acting normal around Grantaire.

"Cunt!" A roar from the lead goon broke Enjolras out of his thoughts. He saw that the group was now standing dangerously close to Eponine, and the leader was glaring at her so hard that he looked like he might pop a vein. "What the fuck did you just say to me?" he was screaming.

"I said you need to leave now before I beat your ass," said Eponine, dangerously calm. She hadn't moved an inch, and the approach of the group didn't seem to bother her. If anything, she looked even more determined than before. Montparnasse must have recognized her expression, because he whistled softly.

"Tell 'em, Ep." He raised his voice so that the entire bar could hear. "She means business. I'd leave right now if I were you."

"Yeah, we're not doin' that." The leader bared his teeth ferociously. "You had your chance, little girl. Time to die."

"I don't think so." Eponine snapped her fingers at her friends, a gesture that Enjolras would have found insulting if the situation weren't so charged. "Get ready, guys. We're going to show this meat-headed cockgoblin and his weak-ass groupies exactly how stupid it was to come after us."

Apparently, this was all it took. As a body, the group fell upon Eponine and her friends, shouting unintelligibly in outrage. Fortunately, no one seemed to be targeting Jehan specifically anymore, but this was only because they were now targeting the whole ABC at large. Not even Marius had a chance to get away; he dashed behind Courfeyrac and tried to use him as a shield, whimpering pathetically the whole time. Courfeyrac, who was wholly occupied in looking out for Jehan, took no notice of him, and finally, Marius was forced to come out and face the brawl on his own. Enjolras would have helped him, but he was busy trying not to get knocked out. For some reason, many of the goons seemed to be flocking to him, whether because of his fragile appearance, or because of the way he kept calling out to his friends to try to direct the flow of the fight, and he was having a hard time keeping up with them all. He wasn't a delicate flower by any means, but this was a bit much to expect, even from someone who'd been around as much violence as he had.

Before he could dodge, a particularly quick uppercut sent him sprawling to the floor, and he was just about to give up hope of coming out of this without substantial injury when a large figure came rushing out of nowhere to get between him and the oncoming horde. Through blurred vision, Enjolras could see that they were making quick work of the person who'd knocked him down, and he couldn't help but feel suitably gratified. Then, his savior knelt down to get close to him, and he let out a surprised exclamation. It was Grantaire.

"Hey, talk to me, angel." Grantaire grasped him by the shoulders. "Are you okay?"

"Totally." Enjolras blinked a couple times. If only his head would hurry up and clear. "I'm great. That didn't hurt at all."

"Like hell it didn't," snorted Grantaire, but he seemed more concerned than anything else. "Can you stand?"

"Of course!" Enjolras wasn't actually sure that he could, but there was no way he was going to admit this. He blinked a few more times, then slowly got to his feet. The room had mostly stopped spinning, but there was an annoying ringing in his ears, and he was feeling frighteningly dizzy. Grantaire reached out to support him.

"You hit your head pretty hard on the bar," he said. "I don't think you're concussed, but I'd feel better if you waited this out in a safer place. I don't want anyone hitting you again."

"I'm fine," Enjolras protested. "This isn't my first time around a fight, you know!"

"Yeah, I know."

"And besides, I should be helping, that's what– " Before he could finish, something hard and sharp smashed against the side of his head, and he stumbled, infinitely glad of Grantaire's support. "What– ?" he began weakly.

"Those fuckers," Grantaire growled. "Okay, come on, we're going to get you out of the action." He wrapped an arm around Enjolras's waist and half-carried him behind the bar, somehow unimpeded by the noisy scene around them. "If we stay low, no one will see us," he explained, settling them both behind the counter. "We can wait this out until Jehan and Eponine kick everybody's asses."

"I should be helping," Enjolras repeated. "I shouldn't be hiding back here."

"Absolutely you should," said Grantaire. "You're hurt."

"So?"

"So you need to take care of yourself. What would you say to Combeferre if he got knocked around at a protest, but wanted to keep fighting instead of leaving?"

"Well of course I'd get him to go somewhere safe, but…"

"But nothing." Grantaire reached out to cup Enjolras's face. "You're not any different from the others. I'm not going to let you get hurt just because you have some sort of martyr complex. It's okay to take care of yourself, or to let someone else take care of you, so stop worrying for now and wait this out with me. Okay?"

"Oh." Enjolras wasn't sure if this was actually happening, or if it was a hallucination brought on by head trauma. Hesitantly, he put his hand up to touch Grantaire's face. "This is real, right? You're actually here?"

Grantaire smiled, but his forehead was creased with worry. "Yes, angel. It's all real. You sure you're feeling okay?"

Enjolras still wasn't convinced, especially since that was exactly the sort of thing a hallucination-based apparition would say, but he decided to make the most of the situation. Carpe diem and all that, or should it be carpe noctem? What an interesting phrase. Maybe he should start implementing it more. He nodded decisively, then winced as a wave of pain shot through his head. Bad idea.

Deciding that sitting up was taking entirely too much effort, he pitched himself forward to lie against Grantaire. The room stopped looking so blurry, and he congratulated himself. He was so good at this medical care thing. He snuggled up closer, and Grantaire put his arms around him, holding him tightly.

"Enj, are you all right?"

"Mm-hmm." Even if this was a hallucination, Enjolras was pretty sure it was worth a dozen bar-fighting injuries. Maybe he should get into fights more often. "But don't leave, R, please?"

Grantaire stroked his curls, and Enjolras sighed happily and melted into the touch. This was the best dream he'd ever had. "I'm not leaving."

"'Till I wake up, okay?"

Grantaire seemed puzzled, but he pressed his lips to the crown of Enjolras's head and dropped a kiss into his hair.

"Okay."

/notes/

okay this chapter is really hecking weird wtf why

anyway

shady business deals, death mention, they dispose of a body, Patron-Minette stuff

also bar fighting


	8. The Amis Being College Students

/notes/

It was a lovely sunny afternoon, and Jehan, finished with all her classes for the day, was sitting with Feuilly in their favorite coffeeshop. People were bustling happily, the air was pleasant, and birds were singing outside. However, Jehan wasn't paying attention to any of it. For the past fifteen minutes, Feuilly had been trying to calm her down from an anxiety attack.

"Breathe, sweetie. You're going to be okay."

"But what if I'm not?"

"You are." Feuilly put his hand on top of Jehan's and looked her square in the eyes. "No matter what happens, you're going to be fine."

Jehan wasn't at all convinced by this pleasant statement. "I might fail! That wouldn't be fine!" She clutched at Feuilly so hard that her knuckles turned white. "I probably will. What am I going to do?"

"Take a deep breath." Feuilly took one himself to demonstrate, and Jehan followed suit, trying to force more air into her lungs. "Good. Keep breathing with me, okay?"

Jehan nodded, and did her best to keep pace with Feuilly's slow, even breathing. He really was the best person to deal with a situation like this. Granted, he was the only person whom she'd allowed to see her like this, but as of yet, she was unwilling to go panicking all over anybody else. Gradually, her breathing slowed, and her heart rate became closer to normal. She let out a long shuddery sigh.

"Sorry."

"Don't be sorry!" Feuilly gave her a warm smile. "There's nothing to be sorry about!"

Jehan thought there was, but she didn't push the issue. "I've never taken any midterms in college before," she said instead, somewhat apologetically. "I just don't know what to expect or anything."

"That would be scary, wouldn't it." Feuilly looked thoughtful. "Okay, so it's like this. In every class, there's someone who does really, really good. Like, they set the curve so high that it's annoying. And then there's someone who does really, really bad. There's a huge range of scores. And nobody really cares! Sometimes the test is worth a lot, and sometimes it isn't, but your professor will usually try to work with you to make sure that nothing bad happens to your final grade. So basically, even if you fail, that's perfectly fine. And if you do really good, that's fine too. It's your first time doing this, so it's pretty scary, but you'll be okay no matter what happens."

"Oh." Jehan took a minute to think about all of this. "And the curve will always help us, right?"

"Pretty much. Believe me, the professors don't want you to fail either."

"Okay." Jehan squeezed Feuilly's hand. "Thank you. You're the best, you know?"

"Oh, I know." Feuilly grinned at her. "Wanna go find Enjolras and see how mad he is about his poli sci midterm?"

"Totally!" Jehan put her sketchbook and pencils back in her bag and got to her feet. "And aren't we meeting everyone at Feast later?"

"I think so, now that you mention it," said Feuilly. "I hope they have noodles." He pushed his chair back up to the table and held out his arm to Jehan. "Come on, let's go cheer up our little fireball."

/

"…And okay, so the casual sexism was bad enough, right? But then the next question was on the Boca Raton decision, and in a class like this one, you know that's going to be literal bull…"

"Take a breath, bro," suggested Feuilly mildly. "You're going to pass out." Enjolras looked indignant.

"I'm breathing! I'm just in complete shock from that debacle of a midterm. Like, in what world are we expected to choose between our GPA and our principles?"

"So what did you choose?" asked Jehan. "Do I even have to ask?"

Enjolras heaved a long, dramatic sigh. "I briefly considered regurgitating all the drek that they obviously wanted me to," he said. "But I couldn't bring myself to do it. I mean, come on. There's no way I'm going to buy into that toxic and pandering mentality just for the sake of something like my grade. So I wrote according to what I think is right, and if they don't like it, they can stick it!"

"Good for you," said Feuilly. Jehan smiled, but said nothing. She was honestly a little envious of Enjolras's ability to not care what people thought, and to do bold things without worrying about the consequences. Although she'd gotten a little better over the last few months, she still found herself unable to do most things without excruciating amounts of anxiety, and it bothered her, but she hadn't found a way to deal with it better. She was just considering asking Enjolras for advice when Bossuet, Joly, and Grantaire came bouncing up, Eponine and Musichetta walking together behind them, and the moment was lost.

"Hey babies!" Joly danced over to give everyone a resounding kiss on the cheek. "How are my beautiful songbirds today?"

"You're in an awfully good mood," grumbled Enjolras. Joly clucked at him.

"Aww, my poor little sunshine child! What's got you down?"

Enjolras promptly went off into another rant about his midterm and the miscarriages of justice contained therein while Joly made sympathetic noises and patted him on the head. Eponine came over to talk to Jehan.

"How are you today?" she asked. "You don't look so happy either."

Why did she have to be so damn perceptive all the time? Jehan tried for a smile. "I'm okay," she said. "Just freaking out about stuff."

"What kind of stuff?"

"Oh, just school, roommate issues, all that." Jehan was acutely aware of how ridiculous this sounded. "I mean, it's nothing to worry about, but…"

"Oh no," said Eponine. "Josephine's still being a twat?"

Jehan hesitated. In a moment of complete frustration, she'd told her friends about how her roommate and her boyfriend were doing their best to make her life miserable, and how it was working. Her friends had been incredibly indignant, but Jehan didn't want to cause trouble for anyone, so she'd let everyone think that things had improved. She still didn't want to talk about it, but now Eponine was looking at her way too suspiciously. Honestly, that girl could sniff out trouble from a mile away.

"Listen ducky," she said. "You're our baby. If that bitch so much as– "

"No gendered slurs!" interrupted Musichetta. Eponine flipped her off, but continued in a more mild tone.

"If Josephine and her fuckboy dick-thing think they can get away with bothering you, they have another think coming. I'll fuck them up and no one will ever know. Just say the word."

"It's nothing," Jehan said weakly. "I wouldn't want to… No. It's nothing."

"You sure?" Eponine patted her on the cheek. "You deserve to feel comfortable in your own room, you know."

Jehan looked at the ground. "Yeah. Don't worry about it."

"Hmm." Eponine gave her a look that either meant _I'll let it go for now_ or _I'll definitely sneak into your room and poke holes in all your roommate's condoms_. Jehan wasn't sure she wanted to know which it was. Sometimes, it was best not to ask questions.

"Hey guys!" Cosette came dancing over to them, and Eponine whipped around to greet her so quickly that Jehan felt a reasonable amount of concern for her neck.

"Hey Cosette! What's up?"

"Oh, just the usual." Cosette gave them a lovely smile. "I saw Floréal on campus today, did I tell you that? She was fixing some guy's car for him."

"The entire car?" Jehan was impressed. She didn't even have her license, and she wouldn't be able to identify the parts of an engine if her life depended on it.

Cosette nodded. "Yeah! It was really awesome. I think something was wrong with the carburetor or something? But she went in there, and got it all fixed it up in no time. Now I know who to contact if I need a fixer-up!" Abruptly, she turned to Jehan. "By the way, sweetie, is everything okay with you and your roommate?"

"Not you too," groaned Jehan. Was there no mercy in this world? "Why do you ask?"

"I saw her on campus today too," said Cosette. "She asked if I wanted to get coffee, and I needed some because I stayed up all last night studying, so I went with her. She made me buy hers for her because she said I'm 'rich,' which I think was sort of rude, but anyway. All she did was talk about how you guys have so many issues."

By this time, the rest of the group had arrived, and Jehan was granted a respite from answering as everyone headed into the dining hall. She was hoping Cosette and Eponine would forget about their conversation, but as soon as the group had found a table, they positioned themselves on either side of her and looked at her expectantly. Jehan fidgeted uncomfortably.

"What's up, guys?"

"Tell us about Josephine," said Eponine. Her tone left no room for argument.

Jehan sighed. "Okay, well here's the thing. I'm not good with people, you know?"

"Not true," interrupted Cosette genially. "But go on."

"I'm literally afraid of everyone," said Jehan. "Like, sometimes I'm even afraid to see you guys. Um, I'm sorry. You're not offended, are you?"

"Of course not!"

"Okay, good. So Josephine and Eddy, they scare me so much, and I think I let them get away with too much, because now they know that all they have to do is intimidate me, and they can do whatever they want. And I know I'm always afraid that everyone hates me, but in this case, I really think they do, which I know because they've told me so. Well, okay, so Josephine just plain hates me, but Eddy sort of wants to do bad things to me, but he also hates me, and it's just really bad, you know? I didn't want to worry you guys, so I let you think it was getting better, but it's been getting worse, actually. Now if we're in the room at the same time, they'll spend the whole time saying bad things, and I know I should be able to stand up to them, but I can't for some reason, and I hate myself for it, believe me, like it's so pathetic! But I can't seem to do anything about it!"

Jehan fell silent, slightly out of breath, and wishing she hadn't said quite so much. Eponine and Cosette looked at each other, then put their arms around her.

"First of all, you're not pathetic," said Cosette. "You're a lovely strong person, and I can't believe you've been putting up with this for so long."

"You never even complained once," added Eponine.

Jehan shook her head. "Why should I? It's my own fault. I shouldn't even be complaining now."

"None of that now." Cosette wagged her finger. "We made you tell us, so you're not complaining. Now, the important question is whether or not you want to stay in your room."

"You don't, right?" said Eponine. "I wouldn't."

"Oh no, I don't want to cause trouble." Cosette and Eponine frowned, and Jehan hurried on. "I'd be even more scared to change rooms or whatever. And I don't really know anyone on my floor, so I can't stay with them."

"You could stay with me," said Cosette brightly. "I have more than enough room."

"I couldn't do that," protested Jehan. "I don't want to inconvenience you!"

"It's not an inconvenience."

"Jehan, it's important that you feel safe," spoke up Enjolras, and Jehan jumped. She hadn't realized everyone else had arrived, and were listening in.

"I don't think they're actually going to do anything to me," she said. "Probably. I'm like 60% sure." No one seemed reassured by this.

"Please stay with Cosette," said Courfeyrac earnestly. The others nodded. Cosette put a hand on her arm and petted her.

"I promise it won't be a bother at all. Honestly, I'd feel better knowing that you were safe."

Jehan thought for a minute. It was true, living in her dorm was pure hell, but she didn't want to impose on any of her friends and make them dislike her any more than she was sometimes sure they did. Besides, she couldn't imagine living with Cosette. She was so sweet and perfect, and yes, she was glad to offer her room now, but once she saw how much of a human disaster Jehan was, she probably would throw her right back out and then things would be worse than before. Really, she thought, Feuilly was the only one of her friends whom she would feel comfortable living with, and since he was having housing issues of his own, this wasn't an option. But on the other hand, all her friends were now staring at her with puppy-dog eyes, and she had never been very good at saying no. She sighed, and nodded.

"Okay, if you're sure it wouldn't be a burden."

Cosette clapped excitedly. "Awesome! We're going to get along great! And of course it won't be a burden, it'll be fun!"

 _Yeah right_ , thought Jehan, but she didn't have the heart to spoil the mood, so she just smiled weakly. Fortunately, Cosette was too happy to notice her silence, and spent the rest of dinner chattering happily with the rest of the group. This gave Jehan ample opportunity to sit and brood, and by the time she and her friends had left the dining hall, she was panicking so badly that she couldn't speak. Mutely, she waved goodbye to her friends to go to her dorm. They were used to her eccentric ways, so they didn't seem to notice that anything was wrong, and she was grateful for this. She didn't know how long she could hold it together.

She had just gotten to the crosswalk, and was about to turn into the path up to her building, when she heard someone calling her name from behind her. Her heart sank, and she thought about continuing her journey without turning around, but she didn't want to disappoint anyone, so she turned around to face the person and got the shock of her life. It was Montparnasse. They weren't that close– he was nice enough, but she had always been intimidated by his beauty and style, and they never really spoke outside of their friend group. But here he was now, sashaying up to her and waving enthusiastically.

"Jehan! Wait for me!"

Unable to say anything, Jehan just waited until he caught up to her, then waved. Montparnasse seemed to take this as an opening.

"I hope you don't think this is creepy," he said. "But you didn't look very happy at dinner, so I came to see if you're okay."

It was a physical struggle, but Jehan managed to open her mouth just enough to speak. "H-how did you…?"

"Please." Montparnasse tossed his head. "I've been friends with Grantaire long enough to know when someone's having a bad time. So, are you okay?"

 _Just say yes_ , Jehan told herself. It would be so easy. All she had to do was fool Montparnasse, who probably didn't know her that well anyway, and she would be free to go. But somehow, the words wouldn't come. All the stress and anxieties of the past weeks were at the forefront of her brain, and there wasn't room for anything else. She found herself shaking her head.

"That's what I thought." Montparnasse led her over to the wall so they could both sit down against it. "Do you want a tissue?"

Experimentally, Jehan touched her face and found that it was wet. She hadn't known that she was crying, but apparently that was just another thing her stupid body couldn't get right. Why couldn't she just get it together? _You're the worst_ , she thought. _The absolute worst_. Every unpleasant memory she'd ever had began to resurface, swirling around her head until the very air seemed thick. She drew her knees to her chest and put her head against them, revisiting every painful instance in her life, past and present alike. Josephine's insults, the taunts of people she'd known through the years, her parents… It was all too much.

"I can't," she whispered. "I can't do it. I can't do anything." Montparnasse put his hand on her shoulder.

"Hey, you're gonna be okay."

The touch grounded her somewhat, but not enough for the darkness to go away. Jehan shook her head and kept rocking back and forth, acutely aware of how pathetic this was. "I can't. I can't."

"Okay." Montparnasse made his voice quieter and more even. "Do you want me to call someone for you? Courf or Cosette?"

The thought of him calling either one of them was almost too much. Jehan shook her head violently. "No, please. Not them, no." It was bad enough that Montparnasse was seeing her this way; for them to come here would be unspeakable. He would probably tell everyone about it after this, but at least this way she wouldn't have to watch her friends turn against her. If she had her way, none of them would ever see her in this state first-hand. But there was someone else. Jehan struggled to raise her head so Montparnasse could hear her. "Feuilly. He'll come."

Montparnasse nodded and took out his phone. Jehan couldn't focus on the conversation, but she heard snippets of _no, they don't look so good_ and _we're in front of their dorm, hurry up_. Finally, Montparnasse hung up and smiled at her.

"He's on his way," he said. "It'll probably be just a few minutes."

Jehan wasn't sure what state she'd be in by then, but she tried to nod. She just hoped he wouldn't take too long. Montparnasse probably had things to do, and she didn't want to keep him waiting here with her. In fact, she should probably tell him that, she thought. She tugged on his sleeve.

"Y-you can go," she croaked out. "Don't have to stay. Not important."

"What do you mean?" Montparnasse looked honestly perplexed. "It is important. I'm not going to leave you here by yourself."

Thinking up a decent reply to this was more than Jehan could do, so she just put her head back down on her knees and let it be. He would probably get tired of sitting here and leave soon anyway. Neither of them tried to say anything else, and the world around Jehan faded out, overwhelmed by the swirling static inside her head. Time always flowed strangely during these episodes, and for awhile, she thought it might not be moving at all, but eventually, she heard Montparnasse call out. So he hadn't left after all. Well, that was another thing to feel guilty about. She lifted her head enough to see Feuilly coming over, and Montparnasse standing up and beckoning to him.

"Over here, bro! We're over here!"

Feuilly ran up to them, and Montparnasse seemed to be briefing him on the situation, but Jehan wasn't really sure. All she could do was sit dully and watch, unable to even express her relief. Finally, Montparnasse sat down again, and Feuilly came over and sat on the other side.

"Hey there," he said. "You're not feeling so good?"

Jehan wanted to say something, or at least nod, but as always, her body wouldn't listen to her, and she just sobbed instead. Feuilly scooted closer and reached out for her.

"Aww sweetie, come here." He wrapped his arms around her and held on tightly, petting her hair and occasionally murmuring encouraging things. Jehan let herself curl up into the embrace. She knew from experience that Feuilly would stay with her as long as she needed him to, and this was almost as reassuring as his actual presence. Everything was still too overwhelming for words, but at least now she felt a little safer.

Jehan didn't know how long she stayed there, but gradually, bits and pieces of her mind began to clear, and she was able to recognize where she was. Her heartbeat was still erratic, and she was still shaking, but she thought she might be able to talk now. She raised her head and rested it against Feuilly's shoulder.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Nothing to be sorry for," replied Feuilly cheerfully. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"He's right, pun'kin," added Montparnasse, who was apparently still there. "You're good. Now do you think you're ready to get out of the cold yet?"

"Oh." Jehan felt guilty again. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize– you guys must be freezing, I'm so sorry!"

Feuilly shot an admonishing look at Montparnasse. "We're fine," he said. "We have nice warm clothes on. You're the one we're worried about. Would you feel okay going inside now?"

Immediately, Jehan was seized by another wave of panic. "No, I can't! I can't see them right now, I can't! I'll stay here, you guys can go…"

"We're not leaving you with your disgusting roommates, and we're definitely not leaving you out here," said Montparnasse. "You can come back with us."

"With… us?" Jehan was confused. Montparnasse and Feuilly didn't really live near each other.

"If you're okay with it, we can go to 'Parnasse's place," said Feuilly. "You could come to mine, but it doesn't have heating, and it's really unsafe, and there's– well, anyway. His apartment is a lot nicer."

"It really is," added Montparnasse anxiously. "We clean and stuff. And we have wifi." He paused for a second. "Wait, do you not want to see anyone, or are you okay with having a couple nice, nonjudgmental airheads hanging out in the background?"

"That description could fit most of our friends," Feuilly pointed out wryly. "Who are we talking about here?"

"Just my stupid roommate and his sugar baby," said Montparnasse. "They're supposed to be studying, but who knows? They'll probably stay out of your way, though."

"Are you okay with that?" asked Feuilly. "If not, we can figure out something else."

"Or kick them out," Montparnasse cut in with relish.

Jehan shook her head. "It's okay." Truthfully, she really didn't mind. Despite their appearances, Grantaire and Enjolras were much less intimidating than most of their friends, and they both had enough first-hand knowledge of mental illness to act decently. Besides, it was likely that they were so wrapped up in each other that they wouldn't even notice her coming in. Jehan thought she could trust them not to stress her out too much. "Let's go?"

Feuilly nodded and helped her up. "Are you okay walking?"

"Of course, I–" Jehan stumbled, still weak and shaky. _Okay, maybe not, then_. Feuilly caught her easily and swung her up unto his shoulders.

"No walking for you tonight, I think. It's lucky you're such a little thing; I wouldn't want to carry anyone else."

Jehan patted him on the head. "Thank you." She rather liked being carried around by her friends, and if she'd been in a better frame of mind, she might still have requested a piggy-back ride. But it was nicer to not even have to ask. Feuilly was really the best sometimes.

"Aww, you guys are such cute best friends, bless your little hearts," said Montparnasse. "Come on, though, let's go be cute where it's warm."

"Ready when you are," Feuilly told him. "Just lead the way!"

Half an hour later, Jehan was ensconced on Montparnasse and Grantaire's couch, nestled up next to Feuilly in a pile of blankets and pillows. Most of her acute anxiety had faded, leaving her with a dull pain in her stomach and a feeling of general malaise, but she knew that she would be feeling fairly despondent for awhile. She thought it wasn't quite fair for her brain to go directly from an anxious episode to a depressive one without giving her any time to recover, but at least now she didn't feel like she was about to explode. Lethargy was also probably easier on those around her, so that was something too.

The others were studying, but she was content to sit quietly and watch them for now, since she didn't feel quite up to joining in. Besides, it was interesting to watch everyone's study routines. Enjolras and Grantaire were sitting together and arguing softly over their collective mountain of books and papers, although judging from their blissful expressions, they were enjoying themselves. Feuilly was working through a problem set, mumbling perplexedly at the paper whenever something didn't quite work out and chuckling to himself whenever he got the right answer. So far, he had filled several pages with neatly-written proofs, and he showed no signs of slowing down. Montparnasse, who seemed to think that academia was something shameful, was sprawled on the floor ostentatiously scrolling through Instagram. However, Jehan could see that he had a textbook pdf open on his tablet, and he was sneaking peeks at it when he thought the others weren't looking. All in all, it was a cozy scene. Jehan thought that if she were feeling better, it would definitely be relaxing. She contemplated asking Feuilly for some paper and a pen so she could draft out a poem, but then decided against it. It was late, and she was too tired and sad to write right now, and anyway, there was always later.

In spite of the ache in her chest, Jehan felt herself starting to give in to her exhaustion, and before she knew it, she was drifting off to sleep. She thought the others might have given her some more blankets, and Feuilly might have put a more comfortable pillow under her head, all of which made her feel a little guilty, but she decided to let them do it without question. It was too much effort to protest at this point, and besides, she had to admit it was nice to be fussed over. Really, she thought hazily, she wouldn't trade her friends for anything in the world.

/*

Cosette set her pencil down with a sigh. The reviews on Rate My Professor hadn't lied; McCullough was really and truly the toughest teacher she'd ever had. Glumly, she wondered if there was any chance she'd get above a 75 on this midterm. Probably not. Even with the curve, it would take a miracle to rescue her grade. _Well_ , she thought ruefully, _at least now I know that I don't want to be a cognitive science major_. She decided to find Joly so they could compare notes afterwards and possibly wail in mutual agony over their scores. Commiseration was a necessary part of the exam process, after all.

She didn't have far to look. Joly was at the front of the room, talking pleadingly to Professor McCullough and their TAs. They seemed to be trying to hush him, but Cosette could easily catch his distraught whisper.

"But your syllabus clearly states that you're willing to provide people with alternative testing locations in an event of need!"

"Yes, in event of need," replied their professor dryly. "This isn't."

"No, you don't understand." Joly clasped his hands beseechingly. "The people around me are _sick_."

"It's cold season," offered one of the TAs. The others nodded.

"No, no!" Joly shook his head in real distress, and Cosette decided it was time for her to take action. Joly's OCD always got much worse when he was stressed, and now seemed to be one of those times. Picking up her midterm, she made her way to the front of the room and greeted the professor with her best good-student smile.

"I have my test here," she said. "Also, did I hear something about about not providing accommodation for students?"

Professor McCullough looked annoyed. "No, you didn't."

"Yes you did," piped up Joly at the same time.

"It's really nothing for you to worry about," began one of the TAs, but Cosette pushed ahead.

"Because you know, it's stated clearly on your syllabus that all students are to be provided with reasonable accommodations in the event of need, and from what I've seen, this particular student is demonstrating a need."

"Yes, that's true," said Joly eagerly. Professor McCullough sniffed.

"And what need is that, exactly?"

"I have a severe anxiety disorder, professor." Joly was gripping his cane so hard that his knuckles were turning white, and Cosette thought that this might be more urgent than his cute little puppy-dog eyes were letting on.

"Yes, this is true," she said. "I can vouch for him too."

Professor McCullough pondered for a second, then gestured to one of the TAs.

"Fine. Take him to the ground floor, he can go to the art history graduate office and test in there. Someone will let you in."

Joly beamed. "Thank you! Thank you so much!" He happily followed the TA out the door, pausing only to blow a kiss in Cosette's direction. Professor McCullough raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment and simply reached out for Cosette's midterm.

"I'll take your test now, unless you want to go downstairs too."

"No, that's fine." Cosette handed in her paper, then paused. "Um… There is going to be a curve, right?"

"Hmm." Professor McCullough looked up from the paper with an expression that was far from optimistic. "We'll see."

/

There wasn't a curve. Cosette found this out in her next discussion when the TA passed back the exams with frowny faces drawn all over them.

"Oh no." Cosette stared hard at her paper, hoping there was a secret message written on it, telling her that the 67 written there really meant something different than what it seemed to. "This isn't the real midterm, right? It's just a simulation?"

"You shouldn't worry," her TA told her helpfully. "You're well above the average. You're probably on track to pass the class, as long as you do well on the second midterm and the final."

Cosette wasn't sure she could handle any more exams in this class. "You're sure there's no curve?" she asked faintly. "Even just a little tiny one?"

"No curve," her TA said cheerfully. "But don't worry, Miss Fauchelevent. You can always retake the class next quarter."

Cosette groaned. That didn't help at all.

/

As it turned out, Cosette wasn't the only one who'd been victimized by midterms. Most of her friends had also had unpleasant experiences, and when they all gathered in her room that night, it was all they could talk about.

This had become a sort of tradition for them; on nights when no one had much to do, or when they all felt like ignoring their responsibilities together, they would go to someone's room (usually Cosette's) and stay for a couple of hours. They would talk, or study, or just hang out together– or in this case, complain.

There was a general mood of dejectedness in the air tonight. Conversations were subdued; Enjolras wasn't ranting about anything, and even Joly looked a little down in the mouth as he tried vainly to cheer up Bossuet and Grantaire (both of whom had made sure to apply copious amounts of hand sanitizer before approaching him). Marius was sitting silently in the middle of the floor, and Cosette didn't think he'd moved since he'd sat down. This wasn't exactly unusual behavior for him, but it was probably best to check up on him anyway. Cosette came over and sat down.

"Hey there, buddy," she said. Marius jumped, then blushed when he saw who was talking to him.

"Hello!" he squeaked.

Cosette smiled. What a funny little duck he was. "How's it going?"

"Just great! My midterms were, well, you know, actually they were pretty bad. And now I'm really worried about my GPA. And my professors hate me. Um… I'm good though. How, uh, how are you?"

"I've been better." Cosette tried not to sigh. She hated to think of all the work she was going to have to do in the coming weeks in order to get her coursework back on track. "But at least it's over for now, you know?"

"It's not over for me," said Marius glumly. "This is pretty much my last chance to stay at school. I'm on academic probation."

"Wait, what?" Cosette hadn't known this. Marius was good at school. Sure, he didn't like math or science very much, but in the almost six years she'd known him, she didn't think he'd ever come even remotely close to failing a class.

"Academic probation," Marius repeated. "I'm on it."

That didn't explain anything. "Why, though? What happened?"

"Oh." Marius looked, if possible, even sadder. "I failed some classes, and did bad in some other ones, and I don't know, it just happened. Now I failed my midterms, so I'm going to get kicked out of school, and I'll have to go to community college, and community colleges suck, and I know Enjolras would yell at me if he heard me say that, so don't tell him, but it seems like everything's just terrible right now, and I don't know what to do!"

Cosette put a hand on his arm. "It sounds like you're having a tough time," she said. "That's gotta be really stressful."

Marius looked a little flustered at the contact. "Um," he said.

Cosette didn't push. She knew he wasn't good at dealing with stressful situations, and even if he had been, he wouldn't want to discuss it with her. He always wanted to look good in front of her, and even though they'd been friends for so long, he still got blushy and silly when she did so much as touch him. She wasn't sure if this had to do with her, personally, or if he was just awkward in general, but she was never offended. If anything, it was cute.

"Come on," she said. "Let's go find Courfeyrac. I'm pretty sure he's been on academic probation before, and he can tell you how he got off it."

"He won't make fun of me, will he?"

"Don't be silly." Cosette shook her finger at him playfully.

"Okay, I guess." Marius allowed her to take his arm and lead him over to Courfeyrac, who was regaling Combeferre, Bahorel, and Musichetta with a story about his latest misadventure at work.

"…So that's when I told her that I _was_ the manager, and I had been this entire time!" The others howled with laughter.

"No way, man!" Bahorel slapped him on the back. "I would'a flipped that table way before that, lemme tell ya! Good going!"

"Hey guys!" Cosette wormed her way into the group, smiling brightly. They greeted her with enthusiasm, and Musichetta gave her a hug.

"Hey, princess. You missed a great story just now!"

"It sounds like it." Cosette smiled warmly, then pulled on Courfeyrac's sleeve. "Hey, can I borrow you for a second?"

"I'm so popular!" Courfeyrac grinned at her. "Yeah, no problem. What's up?"

"It's Marius," Cosette told him. "He's not doing so well academically, and he's really worried, so I thought maybe if you could talk to him, it would help him feel better."

Courfeyrac pouted. "Aww, the poor little puppy. Okay, I'll talk to him. Thanks Cosette!"

"No, thank you!" Cosette waved him on his way, deciding not to follow. Most likely, it would help Marius feel more comfortable if she wasn't there while he was trying to talk about his problems.

She looked around the room for a minute, trying to decide where to go now. Everyone was part of a group of some sort, so all that she had to decide was which one to join. Joly, Bossuet, and Grantaire had joined with Bahorel and Musichetta, while Combeferre had drifted over to talk with Enjolras and Feuilly. Montparnasse was painting Floréal's nails, and Jehan was tucked under Feuilly's arm, only paying nominal attention to the conversation going on around them. Cosette didn't realize she'd been looking specifically for Eponine until she found her, leaning against the bed with a pensive expression on her face. Her phone was in her hand, but she wasn't really looking at it, or indeed, at anything in particular. She looked almost vulnerable, which was a strange look for her, and not one that Cosette particularly liked. It was upsetting to see any of her friends feeling bad, but with Eponine, it was almost physically painful. She deserved only happiness, and Cosette was seized by the desire to protect her, fight for her– do anything she could to make sure she was never sad again. _If there was anything at all that I could do for you_ , she thought, _I would do it in a heartbeat_. Before she could psych herself out, she went over and plopped herself down by Eponine's side.

"Hey, you," she said.

Eponine started, but smiled when she saw who it was. "Hey, you."

"How's it going?" Cosette wanted to smack herself. What a lackluster opening. Fortunately, Eponine didn't seem to notice.

"Oh, pretty much a shitfest, you know?" Cosette was all set to ask her exactly what this meant, but she went on. "Tell me what's new with you. Have you broken any hearts lately?"

"I hope not!" Eponine laughed at the scandalized expression on her face.

"Come on, it's good for them. Not healthy to be happy all the time."

Cosette touched her arm. "Are you okay?"

"Why?" Eponine drew her shoulders in, defensive. "You trying to tell me something?"

 _There's a lot I want to tell you_ , Cosette wanted to say, but she stopped herself. "You seem stressed," she said instead, measuring her words carefully. She didn't want to push the other girl beyond her comfort zone, or scare her away. For a second, she thought this might still have been too much, but then Eponine relaxed a fraction.

"I guess," she said. "I'm worried about my sister."

"Your sister?" Cosette vaguely knew that Eponine had a family that she didn't talk about, and they were probably the reason that Gavroche was living in her dorm room, but she hadn't known that there was another little Thénardier running around. "Um– what's her name?"

"Azelma." Eponine's expression didn't change, but there was a softness in her gravelly voice that Cosette had never heard before. "She's thirteen. Still lives with our parents."

Cosette wasn't sure what to say. She wanted to know more of this story, but she wasn't sure there was anything she could ask that wouldn't be horribly invasive. "Do you miss her a lot?" she asked.

"Of course." Eponine shook her head, signaling an abrupt change of subject. "Anyway. You were telling me about your midterms?"

Cosette decided not to argue. There was only so much that she could expect Eponine to open up to her. Besides, maybe distraction was what she needed most right now. "So, my cognitive science professor, right? Girl, I'm telling you, that class is a literal mistake."

Eponine raised an eyebrow. "Tell me more."

"Oh, I will." Cosette began to relay all her best stories, determined to entertain Eponine to the best of her ability. It seemed to work; they were still talking by the time the group broke up for the night.

/

Joly texted everyone on the ABC group chat the next day, asking them all to come to a "super duper important meeting" at Kerckhoff after they were done with lecture. The last time he had called one of these meetings, he had spent the entire time outlining his (very detailed) plan in case of a zombie attack, and had wound up by providing them all with emergency Apocalypse Kits. Cosette wasn't sure what was on the docket this time; with Joly it could be anything. Nevertheless, she made her way to Kerckhoff as soon as her last lecture let out, ready to meet whatever it was he had planned.

She was greeted on the steps by Feuilly, who smiled cheerfully and offered her a piece of chocolate, and Bahorel, who immediately picked her up in his huge arms and carried her into the back patio, shouting, "Everyone's here! We can start!"

Cosette took her seat, looking around at the assembled group. "Sorry for making you– wait. Where's Jehan?"

"They're not coming," said Courfeyrac, sounding gloomy. "Said they were tied up with something."

Cosette frowned. The last time she'd seen Jehan, they'd been in her room, curled up in bed with a book. She was almost a hundred percent sure that they didn't have anything going on today. Nevertheless, she decided to let it be. If they didn't want to come, that was their business.

"Okay, guys!" Joly stood up, although he was hardly much taller standing than sitting. "I'm so glad you're all here! And we'll definitely tell Jehan about this later, okay? So! Let's start!" He looked pointedly at Combeferre until he sighed and pulled out the official ABC notebook that he used for taking minutes.

"I'm on it, Joly."

"Great!" Joly clasped his hands excitedly. "Okay, so first order of business. Let it be known that I, Joly, have come up with a plan to save us– yes, and all those around us– from failure! Wait, don't say 'failure.' That's not dramatic enough. Say 'eternal doom'." Combeferre rolled his eyes, but Bossuet and Grantaire looked somewhat impressed. "Let the records state that on this 18th day of January, anno domini– dominus?" He paused, trying to think it over, then began singing to himself. "Domine, dixit deus…"

"Okay, babe," Musichetta broke in before they all had a full-scale musical on their hands, "The plan?"

"Right!" Joly beamed at her. "You're so smart! Okay, so you know how we all totally bombed our midterms? And because of it, the sun is dark in our eyes, and the water is as salt unto our lips, and all that? Well! I've decided that there's a reason for that! It's because we all studied by ourselves!" He looked around the group, still beaming. "Come on, guys. It's obvious, right?"

"I studied with R sometimes," said Enjolras hesitantly. "And 'Ferre and Courf too."

"And that's why you did better than the rest of us!" Joly flung his arms around him. "You're our smart little revolutionary, yes you are!"

"I didn't do better than the rest of you," Enjolras protested, but Joly was already going on.

"So I decided. We're going to create a study consortium! Everyone will study together, and not only that, everyone will study the same stuff! They say that the best way to learn is to teach, right? So everyone will teach each other, and everyone will learn, and then we can all study together, and it will be wonderful! What do you say?"

There was silence for a minute, as everyone processed this speech. Then Combeferre raised his hand, looking like he was trying very hard to act casual.

"I mean, if you really it would be a good idea, who are we to deny you? Because a good idea is a good idea, and… well. This is one. Not to bias you guys or anything, I mean I'm very impartial. But I think we should consider the merits of all proposed good ideas. Which this is." No one said anything, and he went on, completely unable to hide his smile now. "I mean, it's totally true, you learn best by teaching. And if you get to learn a whole bunch of stuff too…" Here, he broke off, overcome by a fit of giddy giggling. "Oh my gosh, you guys. Oh my gosh."

Eponine looked at him critically. "You all right there, buddy? Did we break you?"

"No, but you're going to if we don't do this plan," said Combeferre, sounding frighteningly sincere. "I mean, this is such a great idea. I think we should expand it all over campus. We could learn the material from so many different classes that way!"

"That sounds like hell," said Eponine bluntly. "Think of all those random people."

"Oh, wait!" Enjolras came around the table, grabbed Combeferre by the arm, and shook him energetically. "That's wonderful! All those random people, we could _help_ them!"

Courfeyrac groaned. "How did I know this was coming?"

"Of course," said Combeferre, not taking any notice. "I think it's something that's really needed here, don't you?"

"Absolutely." Enjolras was practically incandescent in his excitement by now. "Okay, so I can draft out a rough schedule of when I'm available for meeting with them, and then– "

"Sweetie." Courfeyrac picked up Enjolras and put him back in his own seat. "Let's listen to the rest of what Joly has to say, okay?"

Enjolras looked only the slightest bit embarrassed. "Oh right. Sorry, Joly."

"It's okay! I'm just happy that you're so excited!"

"For what it's worth," spoke up Feuilly. "I also think it's a good idea. Well, both of them are. But maybe we should try it within our own group first to make sure it really works."

Enjolras reached across the table to pat him on the hand. "That's so sensible!"

"I hate to be that person," said Eponine. "But do we all have time for this? I know I'm barely making ends meet as it is, and I– anyway, we're all busy, aren't we?" Cosette wondered what she'd been about to say, but she decided not to comment on it. It might embarrass her.

"She has a point," she said instead. "A lot of us do work and volunteer and stuff."

"That's okay for me," offered Feuilly brightly. "I could probably deal with a couple hours less sleep per week anyway." Everyone turned in unison to disagree with him. Bahorel looked like he was about to flip the table over.

"Bro, listen here," he began.

"Okay, okay," Musichetta cut in. "Settle down there, boys. Feuilly, don't be ridiculous. Bahorel, don't break anything. Let's have a vote, shall we? All in favor of adopting this plan?" Combeferre, Enjolras, Feuilly, Bossuet, and Grantaire raised their hands. After a moment, Marius and Cosette did too. Musichetta nodded. "Opposed?" Eponine and Courfeyrac shrugged, half-decided. Montparnasse and Floréal hesitantly raised their hands, and Bahorel stuck his up in the air and waved it dramatically.

"This ain't because I think it's a bad plan," he said loudly. "It's probably a good one. I just don't wanna pile more on some of our plates than we can take, ya know?"

"I can take it," protested Feuilly.

"I didn't say I was talking about you," said Bahorel, although he obviously had been. "Ya get the idea, though, right Joly? You ain't offended?"

"Of course not!"

"Hmm." Musichetta pondered for a second. "Well, I think I'm in favor of this plan. And I feel like Jehan would be too. So that's a pass, if we're doing this democratically."

"Why would we _not_ do it democratically?" asked Enjolras, looking slightly concerned. Musichetta ignored him.

"It's decided then? We're going through with this?"

Everyone looked at each other, then nodded. Joly pumped his fist in the air.

"Yes!"

"Guys. This. Is. Awesome." Combeferre looked around the table like he'd just found the answers to all his earthly questions and he couldn't wait to share them all. "When do we start?"

/notes/

sort of extensive descriptions of anxiety/panic attacks (but not terribly bad).

**I feel like Joly, Bossuet, and Grantaire would be those guys who plan extensively for post-apocalyptic situations and know exactly what they're going to do when anything goes down.


	9. The ABC's First Performance

/notes/

Grantaire hadn't been expecting the group studying sessions to begin quite so soon. At the very least, he'd been expecting to have some time to prepare so that he could arrange his class materials into some semblance of order. But he hadn't counted on the strength of Joly's enthusiasm. Exactly two days after the Kerckhoff meeting, he found himself in Cosette's dorm, surrounded by the entire ABC and ready to learn some neuroscience. Combeferre, as the person with the soonest exam, had been elected to lead off in the teaching role. He seemed a little disappointed not to be learning anything new right off, but any hesitation he might have had quickly faded when he brought out the three-inch-thick binder of paperwork.

"Okay guys," he said happily, "I have all my notes here, so we can look at some of this stuff. It's super interesting, and I think you'll like it. So! Where do you want to start?"

Courfeyrac raised his hand. "What's a neuron?"

"What's a _neuron_?"

"It's in the brain, right?"

Combeferre looked like he'd been personally betrayed. "It's in the– _yes_ , Courf, it's in the brain. It's a cell that processes and transmits information, using chemical or electrical signals. Actually, it's cool, the– "

"Wait." Bahorel sat up a little straighter. "Did you say electric?"

"Yeah, they're all electrically excitable, actually." Combeferre looked a little more cheerful now. "They maintain voltage gradients across their membranes by means of electrically-driven ion pumps combined with ion channels, which can be voltage-dependent and are altered by changes in the cross-membrane voltage. It's pretty awesome!"

"Oh." Bahorel pondered for a second. "I dunno what that means."

"It means that when Whitman said he sang the body electric, he was being serious," commented Jehan dreamily. "Isn't that lovely?"

Combeferre was determined not to be derailed. "Neurons are made up several parts," he said. "There's the cell body, which people call a soma, dendrites, and an axon. Some neurons don't have all of these, but mostly, this is the basic structure." He took out a piece of paper and began to sketch rapidly. "See, the cell body is just a small part of the whole. Dendrites come out of it and stretch and branch, sort of like tree roots. There can be a lot of them, but just one axon, and the axon has to come from one special place. Signals come from the axon of one neuron, and travel through the dendrites of other neurons, and that's how information is passed."

"Like telephone," commented Bossuet.

"Wait." Courfeyrac tapped on the paper. "So you're saying these neurons are all connected?"

"Oh, definitely. See, neurons can connect to each other to form neural networks. These networks are connected by the dendrites and axons from different neurons, and they make a web where information can flow around and be processed. It's a very complex process, and there are lots of layers, but we're starting to use the concept to help us with technology. Computers can sort of use artificial neural networks now, and it's really cool!"

"That's artificial intelligence, isn't it?" asked Cosette. "I thought research in the specific area of AI and artificial neural networks wasn't developing very well."

Combeferre opened his mouth, probably to cite a specific article concerning this claim, but Joly interrupted him. "It'll develop, just you wait. We're going to be overrun soon."

"You sound happy about that," said Musichetta. "Why do you sound happy about that?"

"Because it's awesome!"

"It's not going to happen, though," spoke up Enjolras. "I really don't think machines can evolve faster than people."

Grantaire thought it was high time he joined the discussion. After all, anything having to do with sentient robots was intrinsically worth talking about. "Do you really think that, sunshine?" he asked, nudging him softly. "People are stagnant, but machines– they can change in a heartbeat. It's implausibly naive to think that they'll never outstrip us."

"People aren't stagnant," argued Enjolras, looking at him with big, serious eyes. "We change and grow all the time! Just because we don't evolve physically doesn't mean that we're not getting better internally. We can't change our operating systems, but we can change our internal software!"

"Do you have any idea how computers work?" inquired Floréal. "Like, at all?"

Enjolras blinked at her innocently. "Not really, no."

"His point still stands, though," said Feuilly. "I mean, machines can only evolve because we design them to."

"Yeah!" Enjolras smiled dazzlingly at him before turning back to Grantaire. "If we can create machines that get better and better all the time, can't we create a society that gets better and better all the time?"

"Hmm." Grantaire had to admire his optimism, but he was still wrong. "Now it sounds like you're conflating moral goodness with objective progress. We could be the best, nicest society in existence– which won't happen, by the way, but that's another discussion for another time– but machines could still take us over because they're smarter. They could have minds."

"But not like human minds!"

"No, and that's the point, isn't it? Humans are flawed, fundamentally flawed. I can't believe we'd ever rise above our hubris and pettiness to have governance even over ourselves, and machines, with their non-human minds could come in and seize control. It would be easy."

"No, I don't accept that." Enjolras shook his head vehemently. "People aren't as hopeless as you think. Machines are pretty cool, but I have faith in humanity. Are you banking off the idea of original sin or something? I refuse to believe that we're all doomed from the start and some random machine with a nice CPU could come in and take over because we're all too busy fighting ourselves to stop it. That's such a defeatist attitude!"

Grantaire made a face at him. "Defeatism is what I'm best at, darling."

"But why?" Enjolras seized his hand and looked up at him with equal parts distress and fervor. "Why don't you believe that things could be good?"

That really cut to the heart of the matter, didn't it? Grantaire wasn't sure what to say. It was true that they'd had variants on this discussion before, but even with that precedent in mind, it was hard to think of a response, especially with Enjolras holding his hand and staring up at him with those beautiful eyes. He settled on a half-deprecating chuckle and a shrug. "It's not that I don't believe it, I just don't think it's feasible."

Enjolras frowned. "Now you're splitting hairs."

"I would never."

"Um, guys?" Joly cleared his throat apologetically, and both Grantaire and Enjolras jumped. "Sorry to interrupt you, but can we get back to our study session?"

"Oh." Truth to be told, Grantaire had practically forgotten that there was supposed to be a study session going on. "Right, of course. Sorry."

"It's okay." Combeferre sighed long-sufferingly, probably used to such interruptions after sharing an apartment with Enjolras. "So, neuroscience! What else do you guys want to know?"

/

The study group broke up a few hours later. Feuilly was beginning to nod off in the middle of his sentences and Jehan had outright fallen asleep on Bahorel's lap, so Cosette politely but firmly ordered everyone to go home and get some rest.

"Especially you, Enj," she said. "I know for a fact you pulled two all-nighters already this week."

"That's not so bad," protested Enjolras, but Cosette shook her finger at him.

"Shush, none of your silliness now. 'Ferre, you make sure he goes to sleep, okay?"

Combeferre saluted to her. "Yes ma'am."

"Okay, good." She turned to give Eponine a hug. "I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

It was hard to tell, but Eponine looked like she might be blushing. "Yeah sure," she mumbled. "Thanks for having us."

"Thanks for coming." Cosette held her by the shoulders and looked at her seriously. "You take care, okay?"

Now Eponine was definitely blushing. "R-right, yeah. Uh, see ya later, then. R, do you wanna go…?"

"Totally." Grantaire wasn't sure where she wanted to go, but knowing her, it was probably somewhere with large amounts of alcohol, and that wasn't something he ever liked to pass up. "See ya, Cosette!"

"Bye-bye! Stay safe!"

"She's literally the sweetest person I've met in my entire life," Eponine said as they made their way down the hall. "Actual marshmallow princess."

Grantaire was inclined to agree with this. He'd never met anyone so completely live-action Disney before. "I'm surprised she doesn't have birds flying around her room and singing," he said. "It would fit the atmosphere."

Eponine rolled her eyes, but she couldn't seem to keep the smile off her face. "All she needs is a tiara, and she'd be all set."

"Oh yeah!" Grantaire stopped walking for a second. "Did she say you guys are meeting up tomorrow?"

"Yeah."

"Well, so is it like a _meeting up_ kind of meeting up? Or just like a 'meeting up' kind of meeting up?"

"Second one."

"That's– well, no, that's okay actually, you can work with that. What are you guys doing?"

Eponine rolled her eyes again. "There's not going to be any 'working with that,' okay? It's literally nothing. Like, she just wants to meet up and get coffee and talk or something."

Grantaire stared at her incredulously. "You do realize that's like the definition of…?"

"It's so not."

"Yeah, sure. So what are you going to talk about with her? Did she say?"

"Not really." Eponine paused to check her phone. "So anyway I guess that bar where 'Sous works is still open, do you wanna go there?"

"Isn't that the place that has 4Loko cocktail hour?"

"Yeah."

"Then, yeah. Let's go."

Not so long after, Eponine and Grantaire were happily situated at one of Claquesous's very grimy tables, well on their way to getting completely wasted. Claquesous's drinks weren't very good, or probably very acceptable according to FDA standards, but they were certainly cheap, and Grantaire wasn't complaining. He was probably going to be extremely hungover tomorrow, but that's what afternoon lectures were for, and besides, wasn't living in the moment an integral part of self-actualization? His philosophy professors would probably concur with that.

Eponine knocked back an impressively large shot of something vaguely fluorescent, then banged her glass down on the table and looked at him purposefully.

"Be level with me, man," she said. "When's the last time you had a real relationship?"

"The fuck, 'Ponine? Where'd that come from?"

"Just answer the damn question."

"Uh, okay." Grantaire tried to think. It hadn't been this year, certainly, and he didn't think it had been last year either. In fact, he was pretty sure he hadn't properly dated anyone since his first year of college. "I guess it was Annie," he said.

"Annie _Hernandez_?" Eponine gave him an incredulous look. "That was like two years ago, man! You're in a serious dry spell."

Grantaire shrugged. "What can I say? It's hard to date when you're only interested in one person."

"What, so you've been saving yourself for Enjolras pretty much ever since you met him? Weak, man. Really weak."

"I didn't say it was Enjolras," protested Grantaire feebly. Eponine looked unimpressed.

"Yeah, sure. Anyway, how did you know you liked him? And when?"

Grantaire decided to answer the second question first. "Pretty soon after I met him. We were walking together, and all of a sudden he looks up at me and goes, 'I feel so comfortable with you, even though I don't know you that well, isn't that weird? This hardly ever happens; you must be really special!' Like, who says that, right? Anyway, that's when I knew the little dork had me good."

"Aww. Gay." Eponine crinkled her nose. "What'd it feel like, though? _How_ did you know?"

Grantaire pointed warningly at her. "Don't laugh."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"I guess it was like everything sort of came into focus. Like, I don't wear glasses, so I don't know how that would be, but people always say they can suddenly see the leaves on the trees and shit, and that's kind of what it was like. Everything got so much brighter and clearer, and I knew it wasn't a change in the world, so it had to be him. And then I realized that I would get excited to talk to him, even about really mundane stuff, and I sorta miss him when he's not there. And just being around him makes everything better, like he's my little ray of sunshine, except he's also everyone else's sunshine, but you know what I mean, right? And it's kind of frustrating, because I love being his friend, and of course I'm content with that, but he's so attractive, and I just wanna grab him and pin him up against a wall and kiss the shit out of him. Ya get me?"

"I get you." Eponine looked thoughtful. "So it's both hella cool and hella painful?"

"Basically."

"You're lucky. For most people, it's just hella painful." Grantaire was going to ask her what she meant by that, but she went on. "Did you ever worry that he was straight?"

"This _is_ Enjolras we're talking about, right?"

Eponine nodded. "Fair point." She paused to down another shot before continuing. "It's just, I don't know, romance is stupid. Why am I focusing on this when there's literally everything else?"

"I mean, it's not like you can help it."

"I guess." Eponine shook her head. "I feel so weird about it. Do I even like her? It's like you said, I wanna be her friend, but I also wanna be, like… not her friend."

"So you wanna hook up with her?"

"No!" Eponine paused. "Well, yes. But not just that. I wanna buy her flowers and bring her coffee and go on stupid dates and wake up looking at her stupid cute face every morning and talk about poetry while we cuddle on the couch, and I dunno, I think I'm fucked."

Grantaire nodded his affirmation. "You're fucked."

"I guess that makes two of us, then." Eponine raised her now-empty glass. "Cheers?"

"Cheers."

/

"Have you talked to Jehan lately?"

Grantaire pulled out one of his earphones and turned to see who was talking to him. As far as he knew, none of his friends had classes in the art building, but somehow, here were Cosette and Bahorel, seated on the bench outside his studio looking perfectly at ease. Bahorel had even found a sketchbook somewhere, and was drawing what appeared to be an alien punching the director of the FBI (all of which was only apparent because it was labelled as such). Cosette jumped to her feet and repeated the question.

"Have you talked to Jehan? Or, like seen them at all?"

"Huh." Grantaire considered this. "Not recently. Why?"

"Well– "

"You're done with class now, right?" interrupted Bahorel. "We've been sitting here forever, and I need coffee. Let's go to Northern Lights and talk about it there."

"How long is forever?" Grantaire wanted to know. "Were you guys just sitting here waiting for me to get out of class, or…?"

"Duh, we didn't know when your lecture ended. Now are we going or what?"

"I guess." Grantaire put away his earphones and started towards the door, Cosette and Bahorel right behind him. He still had some questions as to what they were doing there, but he figured they would clear it all up as soon as they all got outside. Neither of them was particularly good at being mysterious. Sure enough, as soon as they got inside the cafe, Cosette started talking while Bahorel went to get a drink.

"So I'm living with Jehan now, right? And it's honestly really great, like they're so sweet and thoughtful and _clean_ , oh my gosh. They change their sheets every two days, and their pillowcase every day. Once I came back, and they were dust-rolling my comforter because they didn't want me to have to deal with the dust bunnies, which, I swear is practically Joly levels of thoughtful. They don't cause any trouble, and it's almost like I don't have another person in there at all. And that's where the problem starts."

"What problem?"

"Okay, so I might be overreacting," began Cosette slowly.

"She's not." Bahorel set his cup on the table and sat down. "Trust me, you'll think the same."

"Tell me."

Cosette took a deep breath. "Well, okay, it's like this. So they've always been introverted, and I totally respect that, but when they're not out at class, they're curled up in bed, like they never go out, and I don't mind that, because they're basically a mouse, and I sometimes forget they're even in there. But it's kind of worrisome, because they cry when they think I can't hear, and they have panic attacks, and they don't eat, and they don't sleep, and it's just bad. So I asked them about it, and they freakin' _apologized_ for it. Like, the poor thing, I'm not trying to make trouble, you know? So I let it go for a bit. But then recently I asked them why they didn't go out much, and they got all wide-eyed, you know how they do, and squeaked out an apology and ran out of the room. And now they stay out of the room all the time, probably trying to give me my privacy, which is totally not what I wanted, you know? I was just worried, but now I think they're convinced that I want to kick them out. And I could just be overreacting, and I really hope I am, but when you think about how they've been withdrawing lately, it kind of fits, doesn't it?"

"Wow." Grantaire had to think about this for a second. "But you haven't discussed this with them, though?"

"I haven't had the chance."

"They really have been withdrawing," added Bahorel. "They give excuses half the time we hang out, and when they do show up, they just cling to Feuilly."

"That's true, now that you mention it," said Grantaire. "They didn't even join in the discussion when we were comparing Neruda to experimental noise music."

"Right? I thought for sure that would offend them enough to make them talk."

"Okay, maybe I shouldn't share this," said Cosette. "But I feel like it might be important."

Bahorel leaned forward conspiratorially, and Grantaire did the same. "No, tell us."

"So, I hope it's not a huge invasion of privacy," Cosette said seriously. "But one time I looked over while they were changing, and they're so painfully thin, like they look seriously sick. And they have these marks all over, like scars, you know? Except a lot of them seemed really fresh. I feel like that's why they wear those big hideous sweaters all the time. They didn't know I saw, so I didn't say anything, but it's like, what am I supposed to think?"

"Fuck." Bahorel curled his hands into fists. " _Fuck._ You're sure?"

"Unfortunately."

"Okay." Bahorel stood up, looking dangerously calm. "Let's go."

"Go where?"

"Talk to Jehan, of course. We have to get to the bottom of this."

"No, wait." Grantaire stood up too, and moved to get in Bahorel's way. "Think about this for a second. They're already having a hard time, and if we all descended on them out of the blue like this, they'd be terrified. Let's not confront them, okay?"

Bahorel stood still for a second, then slowly sat down. "You're right," he muttered. "I'm just– _shit_ , I'm so worried."

"I am too." Cosette's usually peaceful features were twisted up into a frown. "Do you think it would help if we talked to Feuilly? He and Jehan are so close, I'm sure if someone knows anything, it would be him."

"That's a great idea!" Bahorel jumped to his feet again. "Come on, let's go! His shift ends in about fifteen minutes, so if we hurry, we can get him as soon as he gets out."

"Okay!" Cosette seized Bahorel's and Grantaire's hands and took off walking speedily. "No time to waste. It's our quest. Let's go!"

They caught Feuilly coming out of Ackerman just as his shift ended. He looked exhausted, and had forgotten to take off his name tag, but he smiled and waved cheerfully as soon as he caught sight of them.

"Hi guys!" he called. "Did you just get out of class?"

"No, actually we were looking for you," said Cosette.

"We need to talk to you," added Bahorel. He probably didn't mean to sound ominous, but Feuilly's smile dimmed a bit anyway.

"Of course, what's up?"

"It's about Jehan," said Cosette seriously, somehow sounding even more portentous than Bahorel had. Feuilly was immediately all concern.

"What's the matter? Where is she? Is she okay?"

"They're fine. It's not urgent." Bahorel paused. "Well okay, it's kind of urgent. But like, they're not in any immediate danger. That I know of." Feuilly looked, if possible, even more concerned.

"What's going on, guys?"

Grantaire and Bahorel looked at Cosette. She scratched her chin awkwardly. "Uh, okay. So here's what I was thinking…" She went on to outline everything she'd discussed with Bahorel and Grantaire, adding a little more detail of what life was like with Jehan as a roommate. By the time she'd finished, Feuilly was looking at her with unmixed alarm.

"Oh my god, the poor little thing. I didn't know it was that bad. We have to do something, you guys!"

Cosette nodded. "There's no way we can let this go on."

"Do you know anything else about their situation?" asked Bahorel. "I mean, you guys talk all the time, they probably told you something, right?"

"Well, I do know that she's having a harder time than usual right now, and everything's really stressful. I just didn't know the extent of it all. She tries to hide her problems, even from me."

"From me too," spoke up Cosette. "I've walked in on them crying before and asked what's wrong, and they always try to distract me or make a joke or something. I haven't wanted to push, but maybe I should?"

"Don't push," said Feuilly. "But don't just let it go either. Ask her what's wrong, and make sure to reassure her that it's okay to talk about herself. If you're gentle and non-threatening, you probably won't scare her away."

Cosette nodded. "Okay, I can do that."

"Are you going to talk to them too?" asked Grantaire. "I feel like they would respond more thoroughly to you."

"I will. But in the meantime, I think the most important thing is for all of us to let her know that we love her and are willing to do whatever we can to help. I remember being in that position, and it's really not very fun."

"Wait, you remember…?" Bahorel grasped Feuilly by the shoulders and looked him dead in the eye. "Bro, are you struggling? Tell me."

"I'm not struggling," said Feuilly. "At least, not any more than anyone else."

"That's not any kind of answer!"

Feuilly looked uncomfortable. "I think we should focus on Jehan right now, not on me."

Bahorel didn't look convinced, and Grantaire suspected that this conversation wasn't anywhere near done. Jehan might be the priority now, but Feuilly was always front and center in Bahorel's mind. There was no way he was going to let this go easily. For now, though, he merely scooped Feuilly up into his arms, bridal-style, and gave him a resounding kiss on the cheek.

"I got you, okay?"

"Okay, dude."

"I'ma carry you up the hill, bro. Ya hear me?"

"I hear ya. Wait… No, you really don't have to do that."

"I'ma do it." Bahorel grinned at Grantaire and Cosette. "I bet I can still beat you slow-ass punks."

Cosette flexed. "Oh, you're so on."

"I'm not racing you guys," said Grantaire, but no one seemed to hear him. Bahorel rolled his neck to crack it, and Cosette did a deep knee bend. Feuilly tried to look tolerantly amused, but it was clear that he was thoroughly enjoying himself.

"I'll see you all at Cosette's room," said Bahorel. "Cause obviously I'm going to be the first one there."

"Keep dreaming, puddin'."

"On your mark, you three," intoned Feuilly. Grantaire rolled his eyes.

"Again, I'm not racing."

"Go!"

Cosette and Bahorel took off running. Everyone on Bruin Walk hastened to get out of their way, although one particularly persistent member of the anime club managed to stick a flier in Feuilly's hand as Bahorel zoomed past. Grantaire shook his head fondly and followed his friends at a more leisurely pace. If he'd been less tired, and less encumbered with art materials, he might have joined them, but as it was, he was happy to take his time walking back up the hill, even if it meant he had to deal with all the flier people. It was a nice afternoon for walking, and as for racing, there was always next time.

When he arrived at Cosette's room, Bahorel and Cosette were arm-wrestling, and Feuilly was perched on the love seat watching them and providing encouragement intermittently to both. Jehan, however, was nowhere in sight. Bahorel looked up to see him in the open doorway and shouted out a greeting.

"Took ya long enough!"

Cosette took this opportunity to slam his arm down. "I win!"

Bahorel yelped. Tough as he was, even he wasn't completely proof against Cosette's frightening upper-arm strength. She'd been training with her dad since she was small, and the results were enviable. Feuilly laughed at him.

"That's three for zero now. Better step up your game, man."

"Shut up, I'm trying, okay?"

"So you say."

By this time, Grantaire had sat himself down on the floor by Feuilly's feet, so at first he didn't notice that the door was opening. It was only when he heard Jehan's soft gasp of surprise that he realized that they'd returned at all.

"Oh no, I'm sorry, are you busy?" Jehan made as if to leave. "I can go."

"Obviously we're not going to kick you out of your own room," said Bahorel forcefully. Grantaire knew that this was how he showed his concern, but Jehan flinched anyway.

"O-oh, sorry."

"Why the fuck are you apologizing?"

"I- I…"

"It's okay," Feuilly interposed in a much milder voice. "Come sit, sweetie."

Jehan considered for a second, but finally they came over to kick off their shoes and curl up next to him. "Nice to see you," they mumbled, then hid their face in his shirt. Feuilly put an arm around them and stroked their hair while Cosette looked around at them all significantly.

"This is what I'm talking about," she mouthed.

Grantaire wasn't sure what to say. Jehan was struggling; this was perfectly clear, and he could definitely relate. But since he'd never discussed anything of this sort with them, he didn't know the best way to help, if he even could. On his own bad days, he often resorted to alcohol, but this was definitely not the sort of coping strategy that he wanted to impart to innocent, underage Jehan. Feuilly would kill him, and Eponine… well. He didn't even want to imagine her reaction. He was gearing up to either prompt Jehan to talk about their feelings, or to provide a distraction– he wasn't sure which– when everyone's phones sounded in unison. Bahorel pulled his out to read the message.

"It's Enjolras," he said.

Cosette stuck out her tongue. "I swear, if he's asking us all what our favorite court cases are again…"

"No, it's an ABC thing. Apparently he got us a performance?"

"Woah. No way?"

"Yeah way. He didn't say how he got it, but it's… oh."

"What?"

"It's on Friday."

Cosette cocked her head. "Isn't that the day after tomorrow?"

"Yeah." Bahorel sighed. "Man, I love him, but he's kind of a space case, ya know? This ain't the sort of thing you're supposed to spring on us."

"It's pretty impressive that he got it on such short notice, though," said Grantaire. "You have to admit, he can really get things done." He pulled out his phone to look at the text for himself, ignoring Bahorel's smirk and Cosette's "ooh, look at you defending him." Sure enough, Enjolras had texted the group a long and rambling message, telling them all that he had found a "totally cool opportunity," deviating in the middle to tell them all how necessary it was to have equal opportunity in all areas of life, and culminating with a plea for them all to tell him what they thought. It was a very Enjolras message, and Grantaire couldn't help smiling. Sometimes he could be so cute.

"Where are we supposed to perform?" asked Feuilly, breaking him out of his thoughts. "It's not another "wedding," is it?"

Grantaire groaned. "You guys are never going to let me live that down."

"It looks respectable enough," said Cosette. "Apparently it's for some fancy rich people club that meets in Powell."

Feuilly made a face. "Ew. Why?"

"Oh hey." Bahorel snapped his fingers. "Do you think they'll pay us?"

"Probably not," said Cosette. "Rich people can be so stingy."

"Aren't you a rich person too?"

"Oh yeah."

"I think we should do it," said Grantaire. "It'll be a good opportunity for us, and it'll help us get connections. Besides, even if they don't pay us upfront, maybe they'll donate to us later."

"Hey, that's true!" Bahorel clapped him on the back. "Good thinking, man!"

Feuilly looked down at Jehan, who still hadn't moved. "What do you think, hon? Do you want to do this?" Jehan didn't look up, but they mumbled something that might have been a yes.

"So are we decided then?" asked Cosette.

Bahorel pumped his fist in the air. "Hell yeah! Get good!"

"It's okay for me," said Feuilly, and Grantaire nodded his assent.

Cosette beamed. "Great! I'll tell Enj we're on board!"

She texted back, and in less than a minute, Enjolras had sent them all an emoji-filled text expressing his excitement and delight. Grantaire had to smile. He wasn't as optimistic about the situation as Enjolras was, but somehow his enthusiasm was contagious. This performance would probably be absolutely terrible, he couldn't deny that, but he thought it was a small price to pay to see Enjolras happy. As long as he and the rest of their friends were enjoying themselves, that was enough.

/*

Courfeyrac ran a hand through his hair, trying to smooth down the frizz. Why had he picked last night to try that new conditioner? There was no way he could sing his best when his hair looked like this. In fact, he wasn't sure he could sing at all. Maybe it would be best if he just sat on the sidelines, so as not to embarrass the rest of the group. Enjolras and Feuilly could carry the tenor parts, right? They were talented and stuff. Sighing, he reached for his travel-sized container of mousse again, ready for one last-ditch effort. Before he could open the lid, however, the door banged open, and Enjolras came rushing in.

"Courf, why are you in here? We're singing in like five minutes!"

Courfeyrac gestured to his hair with a tragic gesture. "I can't go out there like this."

"Why not?" Enjolras, bless him, actually looked puzzled. He'd probably never had a bad hair day in his life. Courfeyrac took his hand and put it on his head.

"Do you feel this? Do you?"

"What am I feeling?"

Courfeyrac sighed. "You're useless. I look terrible, okay? My hair is a disaster. How am I supposed to go out there in front of these rich people like this?"

Enjolras patted him on the head, making what he probably thought was a sensitive and sympathetic face. "It's okay to be nervous, you know."

"I'm not nervous, my hair is a mess!"

"Aww, there there. Come on." Enjolras gave him one last pat, then seized his arm and pulled him towards the door with surprising strength, given his small frame. "We're going to miss something."

"Wait, you don't understand! I really can't!"

"Yes you can! It'll be okay. 'Ferre will tell you!"

"I don't want him to," wailed Courfeyrac. "Not unless he can fix my hair."

Not paying any heed, Enjolras continued to tow him through the library, not letting go until they'd arrived to the anteroom where all their friends were waiting. Finally, he stopped in front of Combeferre, looking proud of himself. "I found him," he said. "He was in the bathroom fixing his hair."

Combeferre looked at him, puzzled. "Why? It looks fine to me."

"Oh my god, you guys are blind!"

"He's nervous," put in Enjolras helpfully. "You should give him a pep talk."

"I'm not nervous!"

"Hey, it's okay." Combeferre grasped him by the shoulders and looked him directly in the eyes. "Being nervous is perfectly fine. I think we all are to some extent. All that matters is that we try our best and make a good effort, okay?"

"Huh." For some reason, Courfeyrac's distress dissipated a little. "What if they throw us out, though?"

"Then we go get drunk and make fun of them. It's not the end of the world. I mean, this wouldn't be the first time that we've been thrown out of somewhere, and it won't be the last."

"I guess that's true."

"It's totally true!" Enjolras looked entirely too happy about this. "We could probably get thrown out anywhere, if we really tried!"

"Not helping," warned Combeferre.

"Sorry."

"You're going to do great, okay? All of us will. We're going to do our best, and if they don't like it, then that's their problem. There's nothing wrong with being worried; I know this is scary, but trust me, it's going to turn out perfectly fine."

Courfeyrac took a deep breath. "Okay. We got this."

"Yes, we do."

Before Combeferre could continue, Eponine came up behind him and waved her hand in front of his face. "Guess who!"

"You know that doesn't work unless you actually cover his eyes, right?" asked Courfeyrac. Eponine stuck out her tongue at him.

"Shut up. It's the thought that counts."

Combeferre turned around to face her. "Hey there Ep, how's it going?"

"Well, I was wondering if you could repeat that nice speech you gave just now," she said. "Not to me, but to Jehan. I think it would help."

Courfeyrac was instantly on the alert. "Jehan? Are they okay?"

"Yes, Courf." Eponine rolled her eyes. "They're just nervous."

"I can help!" Courfeyrac stood up a little straighter. He didn't want Jehan to be upset in any way, and now seemed like a good time to try and help out. "Come on guys, let's go!" Without waiting for an answer, he made his way over to where Jehan was. They were sitting on Feuilly's lap, hiding their face in his shirt, and Bahorel, who was standing next to them, seemed to be trying to calm them down.

"Don't cry, little one," he was saying. "It'll be okay, I'll punch them if they do anything to you– not that they will, of course– shit, that probably scared you more, didn't it? I'm not good at this." He broke off, looking flustered, then caught sight of Courfeyrac. "Oh good. Courf, come over here! You're good at being nice and stuff, tell Jehan that nothing bad is going to happen!"

Courfeyrac precipitately came over to stand beside Bahorel, and Jehan lifted their head up to look at him. They weren't crying, but they did look rather miserable, their eyes wide and full of panic, and their face pale underneath its freckles. It was an expression that wrung Courfeyrac's heart.

"Hey, it's okay," he said. "It's okay to be scared. We're all nervous, I think. But it's going to be all right. You know that nothing bad is going to happen, right?" Jehan stared up at him mutely and shook their head. Courfeyrac took this to mean _no, I think something bad is definitely going to happen_. He decided to try again.

"It's easy to imagine lots of scary possibilities, I know. People throwing us out, or throwing things at us, or laughing at our hair, maybe…." Jehan reached up to touch their own hair, looking worried. "Oh no, not you. Your hair is nice. Pretty. You're pretty." Jehan blinked at him confusedly. _Oh crap._ _Get it together, Courf_. "Um. Uh, anyway. The point is, there are any number of things we could imagine happening. And they might happen, who knows? But it doesn't matter. Because we're all together. Anything bad that happens to one of us will happen to all of us, and we'll share all of it, so it'll spread out the bad effects, like uh, like… ya know?" He stopped, acutely aware of how terrible an ending this was. Why was his brain picking now to freeze on him? To his surprise, though, Jehan gave a tiny, shaky smile.

"Like diffusion?"

"Yes! Exactly!" This wasn't the analogy that he would have gone with, but it made sense. "We can, uh, _diffuse_ the bad effects because we're a group, and we're stronger that way. We're so strong! Nothing bad is going to happen to any of us, because we won't let it. I won't let it."

Jehan got up from Feuilly's lap and threw their arms around Courfeyrac's waist. "Thank you."

Courfeyrac wondered if it was possible for humans to actually melt. He stuttered something that may or may not have made sense and returned Jehan's hug, hoping they couldn't hear the way his heart was pounding. Bahorel and Feuilly wiggled their eyebrows at him, grinning mischievously.

"Aww."

"Look at them."

"Too cute."

"Totally."

"Totally," repeated Courfeyrac for some reason, feeling ridiculous even as he said it. Jehan looked up at him.

"What?"

"Uh." Courfeyrac tried to figure out how to tell them that his brain was short-circuiting and it was all because they were too cute for this world, but ended up with nothing. Fortunately, at that moment Enjolras came over.

"They're ready for us," he said. "We can go in now."

"You don't look happy," noted Feuilly. "What's wrong?"

Enjolras shook his head. "Nothing. Let's go in." He, Feuilly, and Bahorel moved off to gather up everyone else and go inside, but Jehan hung back.

"You're sure nothing bad's going to happen?"

Courfeyrac wasn't, but there was no way he was going to say this. "I'm positive," he said instead. "We'll be with you the whole time."

Jehan still looked scared, but they nodded determinedly. "Okay. Let's do this."

On an impulse, Courfeyrac took their hand and squeezed it. They smiled up at him, and he thought he finally knew why people always compared sudden smiles to sunshine breaking through the clouds. Jehan wasn't just adorable; they were radiant. Dazedly, he thought that even if this whole performance turned out to be a disaster, he would still be happy. This moment was worth everything.

/

In all his two-and-a-half years at the university, Courfeyrac had never found reason to go into the conference rooms in the library. Granted, he didn't usually find reason to go into the library at all, so this was hardly surprising, but he thought he really hadn't been missing out on much. Powell's beautiful and renowned architecture seemed to extend only as far as the foyer and main floor; frankly, this room was a little dingy. Joly looked somewhat alarmed, and was clinging to Musichetta rather tightly, though whether that was because of neatness or nerves, Courfeyrac really couldn't say. Certainly, he would have good reason to be nervous. The room was packed full of men in dark suits, looking critically at the group and murmuring among themselves. None of them were smiling, though some of them were openly leering at Enjolras, Jehan, and the girls. After a minute of uncomfortable silence, one of them stood up and addressed the room.

"Gentlemen, as you know, we always try to sample the vibrant student life that this campus has to offer. Today, we have a special treat." He came over to where Enjolras was standing and laid a heavy hand on his shoulder. Enjolras looked like he was trying not to flinch away. "I'm sure most of you recognize Claude and Simone's daughter Angèle. She's always been very active in, well, most things– " here, a genteel laugh rippled around the room, " –and this is no exception. Now she's a member of one of the music groups on campus. We've asked her and her little friends here today to show us a sample of what they can do. So, gentlemen, give it up for the ABC vocal ensemble!" The men clapped politely, and the their speaker returned to his seat, while all the other ABC members winced and looked at Enjolras with concern. Courfeyrac went over to him and took his hand.

"You okay?" he whispered.

Enjolras didn't really look okay, but he nodded. Courfeyrac wondered if he could manufacture an emergency, or if it was better just to cut the performance as short as possible and then leave. Probably the latter; he didn't want to be invited back again to finish what they'd started. He squeezed Enjolras's hand one more time, then raised his voice to talk to the men.

"So, as you heard, we're the ABC, and we're going to sing you a couple songs. First is our arrangement of a song called Arsonist's Lullabye. Grantaire is going to be singing the solo part." Grantaire waved, but his scowl looked completely murderous, and some of the men shifted uncomfortably. Courfeyrac motioned for the group to get into position, before sliding into his own spot. "Uh, okay. Enjoy."

Combeferre gave pitches. He, too, looked angry, but his expression was more controlled, and really, more threatening than Grantaire's. Nodding curtly, he motioned for the group to start, and they began singing.

It wasn't their best performance. They had all sounded better in rehearsal half a dozen times. Nonetheless, there was a raw power and energy behind it that suited the nature of the song, and the anger in Grantaire's voice as he growled out the lyrics gave it an edge that they'd never had before. Courfeyrac thought it was all wasted on their audience. Many of the men looked unsettled, and when they finished, the applause was much more polite than heartfelt. _Good_ , Courfeyrac thought. _Maybe they won't invite us back_. He thought for a second, trying to come up with another unsettling piece they could do, anything to ensure they wouldn't have to return. After a second, he decided and stepped forward again.

"Okay, everyone, I'm glad you enjoyed that. Now we're going to show off one of our ladies. This is Chantal Claret's Can't Save Her as arranged by Floréal. Eponine is singing the solo part." He gave Eponine a significant glance, _make it as angry as possible._ She smirked back at him. _Message received_. The group began singing, and by the time they'd gotten to the second verse, Courfeyrac was pleased to see some of the men shifting in their seats. The applause was much lighter this time, and Eponine glanced over to give the group a subtle thumbs-up.

Courfeyrac was about to step forward to introduce another song when one of the men raised his hand.

"Do you guys know any real music?" he asked.

"Real music?"

"You know, classical music."

Courfeyrac had to grit his teeth and count to ten before he could reply. "You want classical?"

"I just said so, didn't I?"

"Okay. We'll give you classical. This is the Black Swan aria from Menotti's opera The Medium, arranged into four parts. Enjoy."

Combeferre gave pitches again, and the group began the piece. This arrangement was one of Jehan's, and it made exquisite use of the dark overtones in the harmony. Combined with the creepy words, Courfeyrac was willing to bet it would unsettle a few of their listeners.

He was right. Almost as soon as they'd finished, the man who'd spoken before was standing up.

"That was something, all right," he said. "Unfortunately, we don't have time to listen to any more, but we do appreciate you all coming in. Thank you, Angèle. I'll pass your regards on to your parents and tell them how… _well_ you're looking." It was impossible to miss the unpleasant inflection in his voice. Enjolras looked at the ground and didn't say anything, and seeing this, the man came over and put an arm around his shoulders. "Cat got your tongue, dear?"

Enjolras looked up. "Thank you, sir," he said flatly. "It was very kind of you to have us."

"Ah, that's better!" The man leaned down to plant a kiss on Enjolras's mouth, slightly too forcefully to be a strictly polite gesture. "We'll see you soon, Angèle."

"See you," whispered Enjolras, then turned and fled from the room. Grantaire was right on his heels.

"Uh, okay." Courfeyrac wasn't sure how to take charge of this situation and keep his friends from attacking a group of middle-aged white men, especially since he wanted to throw some punches too. "Thanks for having us," he said, trying to sound polite. "I guess we should get going now."

"You don't have to!" The man was all hospitality now that they weren't singing. "You can stay and listen to the meeting. I'm sure you would hear some useful things."

"We're talking about the young generation and their preoccupation with technology," put in another man.

Courfeyrac tried hard not to roll his eyes. "Of course you are."

"Do stay," urged the first man. "We'll pull up some chairs for you. Here." Without so much as a by-your-leave, he reached for Jehan, who happened to be closest, and pushed them into a chair. They squeaked in surprise, but didn't resist. Courfeyrac thought they were probably too intimidated. Marius looked around, bewildered, then went to sit down too. Everyone else remained standing.

"Make yourselves comfortable," said the man. "I'll go get Angèle, and– "

Combeferre cut him off. "His name is Enjolras."

"What?"

"Enjolras. Not Angèle. Stop calling him that."

"Oh." The man chuckled condescendingly. "I think you're laboring under a misapprehension here. See, there was a time when little Angèle was confused about who she was. Very embarrassing for her parents, and very worrisome too. But there are ways to take care of that, and after a few years Claude and Simone got her straightened out. Everything's fine now. So don't try to mess it up, all right? Don't go planting strange ideas in her head again."

"Strange ideas– Do you even know what you're saying?"

"I do. But I don't think that you do."

"Okay." Combeferre went over to the table and pulled Jehan and Marius out of their seats. "We're going. We have better things to do than sit around and listen to your bullshit. Come on." He stalked to the door, and everyone followed him, though Montparnasse and Eponine stopped to give the men a steely look and hold their fingers to their throats (a gesture that somehow looked threatening rather than cheesy), and Bahorel glared at them all, flexing obviously.

"I'm watching you," he said.

Courfeyrac didn't stay long enough to see the men's reaction to their intimidation tactics. He wanted to be out of there as soon as possible, and he was anxious to see if Enjolras was all right. This had to have been an ordeal for him. All his friends must have felt the same, because they poured out of the room, practically vibrating with anger. It looked like they could barely contain themselves, though Combeferre seemed particularly upset. He was stalking along with such a terrifying expression that Courfeyrac was almost scared himself as he went up to him.

"You okay there, buddy?" he asked tentatively.

Combeferre glared at him. "Am I okay? I don't know. Who cares! Is Enjolras okay, that's the question we should be asking here. Did you see that in there? What the hell was that?"

"I think Enjolras has a shitty family," Courfeyrac said immediately. "And I think there's a lot about his past that he hasn't told us."

"No kidding."

"Ferre." Courfeyrac paused. "You're not mad at him for not telling us all this, are you? I mean, you really can't blame him."

Combeferre sighed. "I'm not mad. I'm just a little hurt that he didn't trust us more. Like, what, does he think we're going to throw him out of the house or something?"

"I don't think we should take that personally," said Courfeyrac. "It seems like he's been through a lot, and it's only natural that he wouldn't want to talk about it."

"I guess."

"No, really." Courfeyrac grasped Combeferre's arm. "The most important thing right now is to make sure he's okay. After that we can worry about the other stuff. But he comes first. Yeah?"

Combeferre nodded. "Yeah."

"Good." Courfeyrac looked around. "Now– wait. Where is he?"

"Oh crap."

The anteroom was just as they'd left it, but Enjolras was nowhere in sight. Courfeyrac and Combeferre ducked out into the hallway, but the only people there were their friends, also looking around confusedly.

"It's not like he could have gotten very far," Eponine was saying in exasperation. "We weren't even in there very long."

"He can go fast when he wants to, though," said Courfeyrac, and at least six people turned to look at him in alarm. Bahorel glowered and punched the wall.

"We gotta find him, man."

"Isn't he with Grantaire, though?" asked Cosette. "He should be okay."

"Unless he ran away from him," added Combeferre gloomily. Everyone fell silent, pondering this.

"I don't think he would," said Eponine finally. "Probably."

"He didn't." Everyone turned to look at Montparnasse, who preened a little and held up his phone. "I just texted R. Enjolras wanted to go home, so they went back to his apartment. They're both there now."

"Wow, you actually did something sensible for once, 'Parnasse," said Eponine. Montparnasse puffed up even more.

"Thanks, I know."

"Okay, I'm going back then," said Courfeyrac. "Come on, 'Ferre." Combeferre nodded.

"You guys could come too, if you want."

"Yeah, no, I don't think he would want all of us hovering over him right now," said Eponine, and some of the others murmured in assent. "Keep us updated, though."

Courfeyrac waved his phone. "Will do!"

He and Combeferre left the library to make their way over to their apartment. They didn't talk much, both too absorbed in their worries, and for the hundredth time that quarter, Courfeyrac was grateful that they'd managed to score an apartment so near campus. It really made all of this much easier. Still, it took a bit of time to walk over, and by the time they had arrived, Combeferre looked like he was ready to tear out his hair. He unlocked the door and strode into the apartment, eyes blazing.

"Enj!" he called. "Where are you?"

"He's in the shower," came Grantaire's voice. "Come over here, guys."

Courfeyrac didn't remember the last time he'd heard his usually-flippant friend sound so upset. He hurriedly kicked off his shoes and went over to the couch to see Grantaire sitting there stiffly, a deep frown etched on his face.

"What happened?" he asked.

"Is Enj okay?" added Combeferre.

Grantaire shrugged. "Do you know about what his life was like before he met us?" he asked.

Combeferre shook his head. "Not really, no."

"Well, it sucked."

Courfeyrac and Combeferre sat down on the couch. "We sort of gathered that."

"Like, okay." Grantaire's frown grew even more pronounced. "So his family is super conservative, right? Like, ridiculously, stupidly, have-to-see-it-to-believe-it conservative. And they never treated him very well, I guess, but then when he came out as trans, it really went to shit." He fell silent for a minute, and Courfeyrac looked at him in horror.

"Went to shit how?"

"Conversion therapy. Conversion camps. Abuse– literally all kinds, you name it, they did it. Shitty, bigoted hatred from almost everyone… and it went on for years." Grantaire curled and uncurled his fists, looking like he wanted to break something. "He's got an eating disorder, did you know that? And god knows what else. The things he's been through…"

Courfeyrac didn't think he was capable of saying anything. When Combeferre spoke, his voice sounded like it was coming from very far away. "But he got out. How?"

"I don't know. After he told me all that, he said he felt disgusting and went off to take a shower."

"It didn't help."

Grantaire's head snapped up. Courfeyrac looked up too, and saw Enjolras standing in the doorway to the living room, hairdryer in hand, looking very small and fragile in one of Combeferre's sweaters and a pair of mismatched socks. Courfeyrac went over to him and took the hairdryer before he could forget about it and burn himself.

"What didn't help, sweetie?"

"Taking a shower. I still feel disgusting."

"You're not disgusting," spoke up Combeferre. "You're not."

Enjolras shook his head, looking even more distressed. "No, I am! You don't get it!" Courfeyrac put an arm around him and gently led him over to the couch, where he immediately dropped down limply and curled up against Grantaire. "I'm the worst," he said.

"Why are you the worst?" Thank goodness for Combeferre, Courfeyrac thought. He wasn't sure he would have thought to ask this.

"I let them get away with it." Enjolras looked around uncertainly at his friends, as if asking if they understood. Courfeyrac nodded encouragingly, and he went on. "I tried to fight them for awhile, but it got so bad, and I didn't know what to do, and then… I just gave up. I let them think they were right. And they still did things, bad things, but it wasn't as bad as before, so I could take it. And then I told them that I wanted to go here for school because it would help me… help me learn about who I was. As, as a woman. And they were so mad because they don't think girls should have higher education, but they finally let me come here, and then… now…"

"They still don't know," finished Combeferre. Enjolras nodded, sniffling.

"I'm the worst."

"You're not." Grantaire spoke so forcefully that Enjolras looked up at him with surprise.

"What?"

"You're not the worst. You're good. You're wonderful, and so incredibly amazing in so many different ways. I promise, no one here thinks these bad things about you, okay?"

"But, but I just gave up, I didn't…"

"Shh, angel. It's okay." Grantaire went to wipe his tears away. "I know you don't feel good, so it's hard to see this, but you didn't give up. You just went underground for awhile. No one could blame you; from what it sounds like, your life might have really been in danger. You had to keep yourself safe, and there's nothing wrong with that. And then you got away, you came here. That's brave, okay? It's not disgusting, or pathetic, or anything else. You're good. You're so good, and they're the disgusting ones for doing those things to you."

Enjolras looked at him for a moment, wide-eyed, then buried his face against his shoulder. "You don't know that," he mumbled. Grantaire pressed a kiss to his still-damp curls.

"I do, though."

"He's right," said Courfeyrac, feeling that it was time he got in on this. "You really didn't do anything wrong."

"They probably made you think that you did, didn't they?" asked Combeferre, then went on without waiting for an answer. "I promise, they were lying. None of this is your fault, and whatever you did or didn't do, you're okay. You did good getting out of there, and you did good surviving it through all those years. You're okay, love. They're not going to hurt you anymore."

"But what if they do? I don't think I can stop them."

"I'll stop them." Grantaire shifted so he could wrap his arms more securely around Enjolras and tuck him under his chin. "They're not getting through me."

"Or me," piped up Courfeyrac. "I'll fight them."

"There's a lot of things we could do." Combeferre sounded dangerously calm, and Courfeyrac decided that he was definitely the scariest out of all of their friends. Anything the rest of them could concoct would be downright pleasant compared to what Combeferre was capable of doing.

"But this is my problem," Enjolras protested. "I shouldn't drag you guys into it like this."

Courfeyrac squeezed his hand. "You're not dragging us. We want to help. Right?"

"Of course we do."

"I want to do everything I can to make you happy," added Grantaire. "I mean– we all do, of course. We don't want you to go through this shit by yourself."

Enjolras's only response to this was a sniffle and a tiny hiccup. Courfeyrac took this to mean that he'd accepted their arguments. "Why don't you try to sleep?" he asked. "You might feel better."

Enjolras shook his head vehemently. "I won't. I'll just have the dreams. I don't want to have the dreams right now."

Courfeyrac decided not to ask what the dreams were. That was a whole other issue for another day. "Just try to lie still and rest a little bit, then," he said. "You haven't gotten much sleep recently, and I'm sure that doesn't help anything."

"I'll stay right here with you," said Grantaire. "I'm not going to abandon you or anything."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Okay." Enjolras snuggled up against Grantaire, visibly more relaxed. Grantaire kissed his forehead and began to pet his hair soothingly.

"Do you want us to talk to you to keep your mind off everything?"

"Is that okay?"

"Of course."

"So you know the thing about Alpha Centauri," began Combeferre without any preamble. Enjolras hummed contentedly, and Combeferre went on. "It's the closest star system to our solar system, you know, but there's more to it than that. It's really quite fascinating, because its system is rumored to contain an earth-sized planet called Alpha Centauri Bb, and that would be the closest exoplanet to earth. We're not really sure if this is true, but it's wonderful, isn't it?"

He went on speaking enthusiastically. Courfeyrac wasn't knowledgeable about astronomy by any stretch of the imagination, but he thought that Combeferre's grasp on star systems was really very nuanced. Enjolras seemed to think so too, because eventually his breathing evened out, and Courfeyrac could tell that he'd fallen asleep. Realizing that he'd lost his audience, Combeferre broke off in the middle of an extended speech about dwarf stars and went to fetch a blanket from the closet.

"Since he's always cold," he explained, rather unnecessarily. "It looks like he's using you as a pillow, R. Is that okay? We could move him."

Grantaire shook his head. "No, don't worry about it. I don't mind."

"I bet you don't," muttered Courfeyrac. Thankfully, no one heard him.

"Thank you so much for taking care of him," went on Combeferre. "I seriously could have killed those people."

"I would help you." Grantaire sounded worryingly sincere. Courfeyrac thought he should probably give a lecture on how killing people was immoral and wrong, but he couldn't find it in himself to do so with any degree of believability.

"At least we're here now," he said. "We're not going to let anything happen again."

"Or at least, we'll do our best to minimize the damage if something does happen," added Combeferre, logical as ever. Courfeyrac made a face at him.

"Do you ever get tired of being so rational all the time?"

"Not really."

Courfeyrac shook his head, but he did so fondly. This type of calm rationality was exactly what he himself lacked, and he thought that this was exactly why they made such a good team. There was no doubt that they could work together to protect Enjolras– and all their friends– from whatever might come. Today might be hard, but Courfeyrac was positive that tomorrow would be a new day, and he was ready to face anything it would bring with all the strength he had in order to carry everyone through.

/notes/

misgendering and general transphobia and also mentions of past child abuse (that isn't very detailed though)


	10. Enter Azelma

/notes/

It had been three days, and Combeferre and Courfeyrac were still following Enjolras around wherever he went, trying to get him to talk about his feelings. Enjolras wasn't really sure which was harder to deal with. On the one hand, Combeferre was ridiculously intense and good at ploughing through uncomfortable conversations. However, Courfeyrac was more persistent, and never seemed to get tired of talking about emotions, so it was really a toss-up. At the moment, both of them were working together, trying to double-team their self-imposed duties as counselors.

"So, tell me," said Combeferre. "Do you pull so many all-nighters because you don't want to go to sleep?"

Enjolras fidgeted uncomfortably. "I'm a night person," he said. This wasn't exactly untrue, but Combeferre didn't look convinced.

"That's not an answer."

"Sure it is!"

Courfeyrac reached over to clasp his hand. "Don't worry, you can tell us anything."

 _No I can't_ , Enjolras thought. It was true that he'd outlined a bit of his life already, but even that, incomplete and bowdlerized as it was, had been almost too much. He'd learned early that the only way to keep going was to actively suppress as much as possible, compartmentalizing and moving on no matter what. For awhile, it had worked. Sure, he still had the dreams, and the thoughts, and the inability to eat, and the compulsive need to scratch at his skin with whatever sharp object was on hand, but that hadn't been too bad. As long as he could keep busy with everything else, with the issues that were really important, it had been manageable. But now it had come up again, and his friends' well-intentioned efforts to mediate the problem were making everything worse.

"I really don't know what you're talking about," he said. "I'm totally fine and functional." This wasn't true, but maybe it would get them to back off for a bit.

Combeferre frowned at him. "Lies. I'm not backing off."

 _Damn it_. "Okay, well think about this, then. There are so many real problems in the world, and to focus on me to the exclusion of everything else is short-sighted, wouldn't you say? Myopic, even. Like, you know that the university's wage gap isn't much better than it was five years ago? I think we should do something about that instead of talking about my feelings."

"No, you're not getting away that easily. Your feelings are valid and important, okay?"

"Not really," Enjolras said before he could stop himself. Combeferre and Courfeyrac looked scandalized.

"What are you talking about?"

"You're important," said Combeferre, looking uncomfortably intense. "You have so much worth, and you are incredibly valuable to the world."

"And to us too," added Courfeyrac. "We love you."

This was getting way too touchy-feely. Enjolras wriggled out of Combeferre's embrace and got to his feet. "Thanks guys," he said, trying for a bright and cheerful tone. "You're excellent individuals. Citizens of the world and all. Anyway, I forgot I have to go meet Feuilly right now. Gotta run, can't stay, sorry!" With that, he made for the door as quickly as possible, before either of his friends could get it into their heads to come with him. He loved them, he really did, but enough was enough.

"I think we should take him to a therapist," he heard Courfeyrac say as he shut the door behind him. Enjolras groaned. He was tempted to pop back in and tell them exactly what a terrible idea this was, but ultimately, he decided against it. It was probably best to get out and distract himself as best he could for now.

/

Enjolras knew that Feuilly was still working, but he thought he could go and wait for him to finish his shift. Jehan was probably there, and they could wait together. She was always good company, what with her wit and charm and wonderful habit of not asking intrusive questions about people's childhood trauma. Wondering if anything unusual had happened that would draw his friends away, Enjolras made his way over to the cafe where Feuilly (and by extension, Jehan) spent most afternoons.

He didn't have to wonder long. As soon as he opened the door, Jehan came running up to him to throw her arms around him and put a tiny origami flower in his hand.

"I made you this," she said, by way of a greeting. "Here. It's good luck for you."

"Thanks." Enjolras patted her on the head, somewhat confusedly, and she smiled radiantly at him.

"I thought you would come by today! And it turns out I was right. Are you impressed? Come sit down with me!" Without further ado, she took hold of his hand and pulled him over to her favorite table in the corner, where there were already three chairs set up. She pushed him into one of them, then sat down herself, still smiling happily. "Talk to me," she said.

"Uh." Enjolras scratched his head awkwardly. He really wasn't so great at this whole small-talk thing. "Um– did you know that there might be a planet in the Alpha Centauri star system that's the closest exoplanet to earth?"

"Of course, silly!" Jehan pulled out a fine-tipped pen and pointed it at his hand. "Everyone knows that. Can I draw on you?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Thank you!" Jehan began to outline something abstract-looking on his wrist. "Is Courf giving you a hard time?"

"You don't even know." Enjolras paused. "Wait. You do know. How?"

Jehan smiled at him sweetly. "I know."

"Did he tell you?"

"No. But why don't you tell me?"

For some reason, Enjolras was more inclined to talk about this with Jehan than with the others. He suspected that she wasn't the type to push beyond the limits of what was comfortable, and she was definitely not the type to discuss any of what she'd heard with their friends. "Okay," he said. "Promise you won't judge me?"

Jehan pouted at him. "Obviously."

"Right." Jehan nodded at him encouragingly before putting her head back down to work on her design, and he continued. "So, the thing is, I'm pretty privileged, right? I'm white, I'm rich, I'm able-bodied, objectively speaking I'm kind of conventionally attractive, all that. You know? And of course I don't have real problems. Like, I'm totally fine and stuff. So I wish Courf and 'Ferre would just let it go and focus on more important stuff."

Jehan hummed noncommittally. "Okay."

"Like, I mean, why would anyone want to bother with me? And why _should_ anyone, for that matter? That's ridiculous. Everyone has problems, and most of them are way more serious than mine. I'm not deserving of all this. Why can't anyone understand this? It's so annoying!"

"Okay."

"Oh yeah, and! Like, they think they're being all helpful and stuff, but they're really not! Like, at all! Do you know how long I've spent trying to suppress all this stuff? I had a system, and it was good. No one wanted to talk about my feelings, especially not me, and I didn't have to think about any of that, except when it came up by itself, which, okay, that was pretty often. But it's not like I actively had to go in for psychotherapy all the time, right? Which is totally what's happening now! I don't want to think about this stuff. I don't think I _can_ think about it, actually, because I can handle a lot of things, but not that. Like, ever. I just want to go back to fixing the world, okay? I don't want to fix me! And I wish people would go back to not trying. Can we just please work on stuff that's important, and that we can actually change?"

Enjolras paused, slightly out of breath. He wasn't sure if his speech had been coherent or not, but Jehan didn't ask for clarification, just looked up and gazed at him calmly.

"Do you feel better now?"

"A little, yeah."

Jehan smiled at him and patted him on the hand. "Good." She went back to drawing, and for a second, neither of them spoke. Then she spoke up again. "I don't think you're ready to talk about it yet. And that's totally okay. You shouldn't have to deal with more than you're ready for. But you should know, whenever you want to talk, I'll be right here."

"Oh. Um, thanks." Enjolras wasn't really sure what to say beyond this. Jehan was _really_ good at figuring people out, and her statement had been exactly what he'd needed to hear, but he didn't know how to express this without making it sound weird. He sat in uncomfortable silence for a minute, considering and rejecting possible things to say, in the end, coming up with nothing. Fortunately, Jehan was a blessed angel who never seemed to notice awkwardness, and she just continued to draw on his hand as if nothing had happened. After awhile, she began to talk again, reciting various lines of poetry in her sweet lilting voice. As far as Enjolras could tell, there was no particular theme to her selections, but she didn't pause between them, and seemed happy to progress from one to the other without a problem. Her recitation was soothing, and as she spoke, Enjolras felt some of the clouds in his mind begin to clear. By the time she'd finished her third Christina Rossetti poem, he was even beginning to feel calm. It was at this point that Feuilly, who it seemed had now finished his shift, came over to greet them both. Jehan leaned up to smile at him.

"You've been working so long! Come sit down and look at this flower I made for you. It's good luck! I made more of them too, but you have this one first."

Feuilly took the flower and sat down, exhaustion written all over his face. "Thanks, love. I need all the luck I can get right now, I think."

"Oh no." Jehan clucked at him and pushed a cup his way. "This is ginger tea with honey. Drink all of it, okay?" She stared at Feuilly until he picked up the cup and began to sip at it, then nodded in satisfaction. "Good. Now tell me what's the matter."

"So bossy." Feuilly shook his head in mock dismay, and Jehan giggled.

"I love you, that's why!"

Feuilly smiled warmly at her. "I'm feeling better already."

"But why weren't you feeling good to begin with?" wheedled Jehan. Feuilly sighed.

"It's nothing, really. Just a bad day."

"That's not nothing! Why was it bad?"

"Oh, well. I was just running around a lot, and everyone was all rude, and people were yelling, and it was a mess. And then I found out that I have to figure out some fundraising stuff for the homeless shelter, because no one else wants to. So there's that. Overall, it was just one of those days, you know?"

"Aww, I know." Jehan put her arms around Feuilly and rested her head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, darling. It sounds so stressful."

"It's fine. Just a little bit of a downer, you know? Don't worry about me, I'll be okay."

"No!" Jehan shook her finger at him sternly. "If you're sad, you're sad, and it's okay to take it seriously! You know, all your feelings are valid. All of them! Even the ones that you think are silly!"

"Hmm." Feuilly didn't look convinced, but he didn't argue either. Jehan looked pleased. She straightened up and began to card her fingers through his hair.

"You know, you spend so much time making sure all of us are okay, and you always take care of me without even complaining. You're so wonderful, and you deserve to admit that you're having a hard day. Don't compare your struggles to other people's! Yours are real and valid, okay!" Without warning, she turned on Enjolras and pointed at him. "This goes for you too, mister!"

"I, uh. Me?"

Jehan sighed dramatically. "Both of you are so silly. Listen, even if you feel bad stuff, it's okay. Sure, lots of people go through bad stuff. Some of them even have it worse than you guys. But that doesn't mean you can't be struggling. That's ridiculous! They can be sad, and you can be sad too. You don't have to be competing with them in order to have problems!"

"But…" Enjolras wanted to rebut this, but he couldn't really find a way to do so. Jehan was persuasive, and more than that, she was persistent. She probably wasn't going to accept any argument he had to offer. "I'm privileged?" he tried.

Sure enough, Jehan huffed at him and made a face. "Were you even listening?" Enjolras nodded. "Well, then. Don't you think that privileged people can have problems? Most people have some form of privilege. But you wouldn't deny them the right to be upset, would you?"

"Of course not."

"So only you're not allowed to be upset?"

"Well, um. Yeah?"

"You silly bagel." Jehan patted him on the cheek in what was probably meant to be a chastising way. "You're all for liberty and equality and stuff, aren't you? Don't exclude yourself from everyone else. You're human, and you're allowed to be human. Stop trying to be some kind of ascetic– marmoreal– martyr… person."

"I love your language," said Feuilly irrelevantly. "I've never heard anyone else use those three words in tandem before."

Jehan clapped her hands together. "Novel utterances! Aren't they wonderful? I really think it's so lovely that– " She frowned suddenly, and broke off. "No, you're not going to distract me. I'm not done scolding you guys yet!"

"But I don't want to be scolded," said Enjolras plaintively. Jehan flashed him a dimpled smile.

"Too bad."

She took a deep breath, probably preparing for another lecture, when the door to the cafe burst open, and Eponine came rushing over to their table.

"Enjolras! There you are. Is Grantaire here?"

"Grantaire? I think he's– wait." Enjolras paused. "You were looking for me? How did you know I was here?"

Eponine waved her hand dismissively. "It's obvious, sunshine. You're not exactly hard to track. Now where's R? He's not answering his phone, and I need to talk to him."

"Oh." Enjolras thought for a second. "He's probably with Joly and Bossuet."

"He's not. I already checked."

"Maybe he's painting," spoke up Jehan. "I know he never answers his phone on time when he's really in the mood."

"Or he could be at the gym," added Feuilly.

"Or out with Montparnasse."

Eponine frowned. "Asshole. Okay, well do you know when he'll get back?"

"You should know better than us," said Feuilly, shrugging. Eponine made as if to reply, but Jehan tugged at her sleeve, cutting her off.

"Ep, what's the matter? You could talk to us, you know!"

"To you?" Eponine considered for a second. "I mean, no offense, but I'm not sure how any of you could help."

"We could help!" Jehan looked up at her with serious eyes. "As long as you're willing to have us, I mean."

Eponine looked as if she was going to say no, but then her face crumbled, and she gave a shaky sigh. "I guess."

"Oh, good!" Jehan jumped up to fetch her a chair, and she sank down in it as if she had no more energy left.

"Guys, I really don't know what to do."

Jehan patted her on the hand. "Tell us."

"Well." Eponine stopped, as if reconsidering, then shook her head and went on in a rush. "It's my sister. I'm afraid my parents are going to kill her."

/

In all the time that Enjolras had known Eponine, he'd never seen her really and truly upset. Pissed off, yes, and even worried sometimes, but she'd never looked as lost as she did now. She had tried to keep a facade of control as she told them her story, but by the time she was finished, there were tears in her eyes, and a quaver in her voice. Jehan took her hand and began to trace patterns on the back of her palm.

"You did good telling us this. I know it wasn't easy."

"What do you want to do now?" asked Feuilly. "Do you have any ideas?"

"I need to get her out."

Feuilly nodded. "Okay. We'll help you."

"Really?"

"Yeah. There's no way we can let her stay there."

"If we all drive down there, we could even get her today," said Jehan. "Some of us could distract your parents, and the rest of us could get her and leave. We could take two cars, just to be safe."

"No, we can't do that."

Eponine stared at Enjolras with a disbelieving look. "So, what, you want to leave her there?"

"No, of course not. But we have to be careful. If we bring her with us that way, they'll charge us with kidnapping, and then they'll get her back, and she'll never get out. And it'll be so much worse for her after that too. We can't."

"What, so you're an expert all of a sudden?" asked Eponine suspiciously. "How do you know so much about all this?"

Enjolras felt his mouth go dry. "I– I'm not…" Memories from the past flooded his mind, too persistently for him to be able to push them all away. All the years of torture he'd endured were now front and center, and he didn't know how to deal with them without breaking down. With a supreme effort, he tried to push them back, compartmentalize and move on. Eponine, who was still looking at him accusingly, didn't seem to notice, but Jehan and Feuilly gave him concerned looks.

"I don't think he's wrong, Ep," said Feuilly. "They probably could manage to win a case like that if they tried."

"Yeah, well it's easy for him to say that, isn't it?" returned Eponine. "He's never had to deal with this kind of shit. Azelma's in danger _now_ , and hypotheticals aren't helping."

Enjolras felt the familiar cold heaviness settle deeper in his chest. He dug his nails into his wrists and scratched as hard as he could, trying to focus. "I know she's in danger," he said. "That's why we have to be careful. She should get away from them for good, not just for long enough to make them mad."

"Well, okay." Eponine looked mollified, but her voice was still a little sharp. "How do you suggest we do this, then?"

Enjolras dug his nails in harder. "I don't know."

"Great, you don't know."

Feuilly put a soothing hand on Eponine's shoulder. "We'll figure this out. Don't worry. Enjolras, why don't you go try and get in touch with Grantaire? We'll stay here and try to plan."

"Okay." Enjolras shot him a grateful look as he hurried outside the cafe. Feuilly was always good at picking up on people's discomfort, and he must have seen a bit of what was in the atmosphere.

Outside, the air felt a little less constricted, and Enjolras took a few deep breaths to steady himself before pulling out his phone. It was likely that Grantaire wouldn't pick up, but that was just as well. It gave him an excuse to be out here longer, away from what was happening inside. He tried to ignore the shaking in his hands, and dialed. To his surprise, Grantaire answered on the third ring.

"Hey, Enj. What's up?"

"R? Is that you?"

"I mean you did call my phone, so…"

"Right." Enjolras took a breath. "Um– can you come over?"

"Over where? Enjolras, are you okay? You sound funny."

"I'm okay. Eponine's the one to worry about. Look, can we just meet you?"

There was a rustling on the other end of the phone that sounded like Grantaire was putting some papers away. "I'll be there in a few. Where should I meet you?"

Enjolras thought for a minute. "We can come to you," he said finally. "Feuilly's boss will probably kick us out soon. Can we go to your apartment?"

"For sure. 'Parnasse should be there, he'll let you in."

"Okay." Enjolras started to say goodbye, then stopped. "Thank you, R."

"Of course. I'll be there soon, okay?"

Enjolras wasn't sure if he said goodbye or not. By the time he'd put his phone away, he was already inside the cafe, headed towards the table. He came up to Feuilly and tugged at his sleeve.

"Let's go to R's house."

Feuilly looked up, unsurprised. "You got in touch with him, then?" Enjolras nodded. "Okay." Feuilly looked at the others, as if asking for confirmation. "Is that all right with you guys?"

"That's what I wanted in the first place," said Eponine, and Jehan nodded assent.

"Great." Feuilly got up and pushed his chair in, clearing the mess off the table. Jehan, realizing that most of this mess was hers, blushed and quickly moved to help him. As soon as everything was straightened up, they went to the door, Jehan stopping to intertwine her hand with Enjolras's.

"You okay?" she whispered.

Unsure of what else to do, Enjolras nodded. Jehan pursed her lips, but didn't pursue it, and instead led him out the door to where Eponine was waiting.

Grantaire's apartment was colder than it had been last time. Enjolras wasn't one to complain, but after a few minutes, he was shivering. None of the others seemed to notice, however, and he couldn't bring himself to say anything. They had all been waiting for about ten minutes now for Grantaire to show up, and despite Montparnasse's pleading, Eponine had refused to say anything else about her situation. "I don't want to have to repeat myself," she'd said. No one else was talking much, and the room had fallen into silence. It wasn't exactly uncomfortable, but it was tense, and it was a relief to hear Grantaire opening the door and calling out,

"Anyone here?"

"Took you long enough," Eponine replied waspishly, though there was no real sharpness in her voice. Grantaire came into the room and put a bottle into her hand.

"I thought you might want this," he said by way of explanation, before adding, "What's going on?"

"Thanks." Eponine took a long swig from the bottle and sighed heavily. "It's all gone to shit."

"Sounds like." Grantaire made as if to sit down, then caught sight of Enjolras huddled up on the couch, trying to conserve his warmth. "Okay, hold on." He disappeared into his bedroom and came out a minute later holding a fluffy green blanket, which he tucked around Enjolras's shoulders before sitting down himself as if nothing had happened.

Enjolras snuggled into the soft velvet, wondering if it would be creepy to bury his nose in it and inhale Grantaire's scent. He knew that this was a serious situation, and definitely not the time for him to be Having Feelings about his friends, but he couldn't help but feel a bit of a warm glow that had nothing to do with the blanket. Although he would never admit it to anyone, he liked being cared for, and if it was Grantaire doing the caring, then, well. Resisting the urge to scoot over on the couch and curl up against Grantaire's shoulder, he perked up his ears to hear Eponine's explanation of her problem.

"So my parents are complete sacks of shit," she was saying. "I know this, you all know this. Gav and me never spent too much time at home, since pretty much anything was better than being around them. But they always treated Azelma pretty good, so I thought it would be okay to leave her when I came here. But I should have known better."

Montparnasse frowned. "What happened?"

"They, she… god." Eponine took a deep breath. "They contacted Tholomyès. They're going to let him have her."

Grantaire started violently. "What? No. They can't do that. That's not happening."

"I'll kill them first," added Montparnasse.

Enjolras glanced at Jehan and Feuilly, but they looked just as lost as he did. They shrugged, and he figured this one was on him. "Who's Tholomyès?" he asked.

"Don't worry your pretty head about it." Montparnasse was already getting up to put on his shoes as he spoke. "He'll be gone before you know."

"Monty, sit down." Eponine's voice left no room for disagreement. Montparnasse scowled, but slowly moved to sit down beside her.

"I could get the job done, you know," he muttered.

"Yeah, but he's got half the Patrones in his pocket, did you think of that, jackass? You kill him, and it all goes to shit. We gotta think of something else."

"Okay, fine. Like what, then?"

"I don't know, that's why you're all here. You're supposed to be smart, help me come up with something. And not something that'll get us killed."

They all sat in silence for a few minutes, Montparnasse glaring furiously and twirling his butterfly knife. Finally, Jehan spoke up hesitantly.

"Sorry, this might be out of line, so you can tell me to back off. But I think it would help us plan if we knew a little more about the situation."

"Right." Eponine exhaled slowly. "Okay. I guess. So Azelma's my sister. Thirteen years old. Cutest little thing in the world. Tholomyès is a… what would you call him, Monty?"

"Human trafficker?"

"Right. That."

Jehan's eyes were almost comically wide in her tiny face. "What?"

"Yeah." Eponine stopped to take a long drink from her bottle. "He's a piece of shit. All his guys are. My parents do business with them from time to time, but they never involved me, thank god. I thought that was the only contact they had with us, until I found out…"

"Found out…?"

"I had two brothers. Younger than Gav, but not as tough. One day, they just disappeared. My parents said they'd sent them off to stay with our uncle, because they'd get a better shot there. And I believed that, like the stupid fucking idiot that I am, and I let myself think they were happier there than they would be with us."

Montparnasse put an arm around her. "You're not an idiot, Ep. That would be an easy thing to believe." Eponine leaned into him, but continued on with her story without replying.

"A few days ago, I get a call from Azelma. She's panicking, not making sense. Finally, she tells me she found out what happened to our brothers. Our parents sold them to Tholomyès. Fucking sold them! I didn't believe her at first, but she had good information, and eventually, I realized it was true. My parents would do that. They're like that. And now they're going to sell her. I just… I can't let this happen. You guys have to understand. She's my baby sister. I can't let them do this to her."

"Of course we're not going to let them." Montparnasse's voice was more gentle and soothing than Enjolras had ever heard it before. "We're going to help you. They're not going to get away with this, not this time."

"But I don't know what to do." Eponine sounded like she was on the brink of tears. "I've never been so lost before. I don't know what to do."

"We'll figure it out."

"But how can we? They could make the deal any day now, and we can't stop them."

"Yes, we can. We have to."

"Could we persuade Tholomyès to call it off?" asked Grantaire.

Eponine scoffed. "Have you ever met Tholomyès?"

"Right."

"Could we persuade your parents to call it off, then?" asked Montparnasse. "Convince them they need to have Azelma at home or something?"

"Yeah, no. That's not happening. Besides, I don't want her at home."

"That's the next part. We have to stop them from selling her first."

"But if Tholomyès and my parents are both so set on this, how the hell are we supposed to do that?"

Jehan cleared her throat, then blushed. "Um, sorry. Do you think we could interrupt the deal somehow?"

"Weren't you listening?" Eponine shook her head. "That's not going to work."

"No, um." Jehan looked around uncertainly, as if hoping someone else would take over for her. When no one did, she went on, still blushing. "So like, we could let everyone think that it's happening, but then send in a fake person instead of your sister. And then while the bad people figure that out, you can run away with her. That should get you some time."

Eponine looked thoughtful. "I see."

"Could you get receipts showing your parents' intentions?" asked Enjolras. "I mean, if you had some proof, you could make a really compelling argument for custody."

"I'm pretty sure I could." Eponine looked grim. "I just need a little time in the house, is all."

"Can you get that?"

"I think so."

"Great!" Jehan looked a little more sure of herself now. "So we'll go over there as soon as possible, you go in the house, I'll go with Tholomyès– "

Eponine cut her off. "That's a no-go."

"What?"

"You can't be fake Azelma."

"Excuse me, I think I could be an extremely good fake Azelma."

"This isn't a game, Jehan." Eponine's voice was just this side of harsh, and Jehan's eyes widened in surprise. "This isn't some play-pretend _experience_ where you can dance in and make-believe that you're a spy or something. You get that, right? This is humanity at its shittiest. It's life and death."

"I know." Jehan nodded solemnly. "I get it, I do. But it was my idea. I can't volunteer someone else for danger. And besides, who else around here could possibly be a convincing thirteen-year-old?"

Enjolras raised his hand. "I could."

"No." Grantaire, Eponine, and Feuilly all shook their heads at once, and Enjolras felt rather insulted.

"I could!"

"Yeah maybe, but you're not going to," said Eponine. "Next idea, please."

"Me. I'm doing it." Eponine frowned, and Jehan stuck out her lower lip determinedly. "No, listen. I'm the best choice you've got."

"You don't even look like Azelma," protested Montparnasse. "You're Jewish."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"I don't think either you or Enjolras can do it, to be honest," said Grantaire. "You're both too pretty. Tholomyès would just take you instead of Azelma and call it a day."

"Right, that's true." Montparnasse crossed his arms and scowled. "Where are we going to get a small, tough, ugly person?"

No one spoke for a minute. Then Eponine sighed. "I guess it's on me."

"You?" Enjolras looked at her incredulously. "How are you ugly?"

"Have you seen me?"

"Who's going to get the stuff from your house, then?" spoke up Grantaire. "I know for a fact you're not sending Gav in there."

"Hell no." Eponine considered for a second, then looked at Montparnasse. "Hey there, old buddy. Got any plans tonight?"

/*

Cosette hadn't been expecting Jehan home for another few hours. Usually they liked to stay out as late as possible at night, probably trying to give her space in case she wanted to have a party or something. She had no idea where they went, or why they would think that she wanted them gone, but they had been holding to this pattern for weeks now. So, she was surprised when just after 8:00, the door opened and Jehan popped their little head into the room.

"Hello, I'm back! Are you there, Cosette?"

Cosette waved to them. "Welcome back!"

"Um– it's not just me, though." Jehan looked hesitant. "I brought Enjolras and Feuilly and Bahorel. Is that okay?"

"Of course!"

"Oh, good!" Jehan finally opened the door all the way and danced into the room, pulling Enjolras with them, while Feuilly and Bahorel followed behind. At a welcome from Cosette, they all settled themselves down around the room except for Enjolras, who just stood in the center of the floor looking lost until Jehan finally guided him over to the loveseat. Cosette smiled at all of them.

"It's good to see all of you! To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I live here," piped Jehan. Cosette smiled again and reached over to give them a spontaneous squeeze. They really were the cutest.

"Cosette, do you have any more of that lemon balm tea?" spoke up Feuilly. "I think it's a good time for a tea party, don't you?" He nodded subtly at Enjolras, who was sitting with his knees drawn up in front of him, staring blankly at nothing in particular. Cosette recognized that look very well; it was the same one Jehan wore when they were fighting off anxiety.

"You're so right," she said. "Tea and blankets all around."

Once everyone had gotten their tea, Cosette wrapped them up in her softest blankets and put one of her stuffed animals on each of their laps. It was clear that something had happened, and she wanted to help any way she could.

"What's going on, you guys?" she asked.

Feuilly exchanged a look with Jehan. "It's complicated," he began slowly.

"No it's not! It's just bad!"

Cosette turned to look at Enjolras. This was the first thing he'd said since he came here. "What do you mean?"

"Eponine's sister is in trouble, so she went to help her, and 'Parnasse and R went with her, and now they're all going to get hurt, and it's my fault because I couldn't be the fake Azelma. So it's pretty simple, really, but it's all bad. You know?"

Cosette wasn't sure what to ask first. "Okay, um. That's a lot. So Eponine and Montparnasse and Grantaire went… somewhere?"

"They wouldn't tell us where." If he hadn't looked so miserable, Enjolras would have sounded almost indignant. "They said they didn't want us to follow them."

"Which we would have," pointed out Jehan. Enjolras frowned.

"We should have tried to tail them."

"You really think we could tail Eponine?"

"We could try!"

"No." Feuilly shook his head firmly. "We'd just be in the way, and then they'd be in more danger. We need to be calm and have faith that they can do this."

Enjolras looked even more distressed. "I have faith in them, but I still can't calm down. Does that mean that I actually _don't_ have faith in them? Maybe I don't believe in them! What's wrong with me? Am I a bad person? No, but I don't matter. They do. What if something bad happens? What will they do?"

"Okay, you're panicking." Cosette reached out to put a reassuring hand on his arm, and he started and flinched away. "Sorry, sorry. I'm not going to hurt you."

"What are you most worried about?" asked Feuilly. "Can you tell us what bad things you're expecting might happen?"

"Everything!"

"Okay. Are you scared of anything in specific, though?"

Enjolras considered for a bit. "I'm afraid that Tholomyès will take Eponine, or that Grantaire won't be able to get Azelma away, or Montparnasse won't be able to find the proof he needs, or that the Thénardiers will find out what's going on, or that Tholomyès will get his guys on them, or all of that will happen, and there's nothing we'll be able to do about it!"

"Those are definitely all scary possibilities. I get why you're worried." Feuilly came closer to Enjolras, but made no move to touch him. "And I know it's scary to sit around here with no way of knowing what's going on. I'm sure you want to help too."

"I do!"

"But that's not our job right now. Eponine and Grantaire and Montparnasse know what they're doing, but we don't, and we wouldn't help much if we went with them. So our job is to stay here and be ready for them when they come back."

Enjolras gave a huffy little sigh, but didn't try to argue. "I just can't stop thinking about it."

"I know."

"What do you think? Are they going to be okay? Do you think it's all going to work out?"

"I couldn't tell you for sure. But my personal opinion is that it will. They're all smart and strong, and they really want to get this done. I have the feeling they're going to be fine."

Enjolras finally scooted over to Feuilly and curled up against him, looking for all the world like a curly-haired kitten. Feuilly put an arm around him.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "Is there anything we can do?"

"No, but that's how it should be, right? Just stay and wait together."

Feuilly smiled and ruffled his hair. "You got it."

Cosette couldn't help being impressed. Feuilly seemed to know exactly what to say, and even though his words hadn't been directed towards her, she still felt oddly reassured. This must be why Jehan trusted him so much; he was practically kindness personified. She decided to take her cue from him.

"So, what do you guys want to do while we wait?" she asked. "Do you want to talk about it? Or do you want to do something to distract us?"

"Distract us," said Jehan immediately. Enjolras hummed in agreement.

"Okay." Cosette could do that. She kept an arsenal of coping tools for all her friends so they could get through difficult situations whenever they arose. "Do you want to watch something? Or do something?"

"Both!" Bahorel had been trying to regulate his voice all evening so as not to scare the others, and it was clear that he was putting effort into subduing his tone. Still, it was louder than expected, and both Jehan and Enjolras jumped. "Oh, sorry guys."

Cosette took out her box of craft supplies, and her friends all started to rummage through it and look for their favorite items. They looked a little happier already, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe this would help a bit. "Now I'm going to queue up something on Netflix," she said. "Does anyone have any requests?"

"Something with lots of plot?" suggested Jehan. "I want to get lost in it."

"Hmm, all right." Cosette clicked through her favorited series. "Is Sons of Anarchy okay?"

"Hell yeah!"

"Oh yes, that's a lovely show."

"It's okay with me too."

Cosette looked at Enjolras. "Yes? No?"

"Sure."

"Perfect." She clicked play, then settled back with the rest of her friends. After a second thought, she picked up a crochet hook and some fluffy yarn to join in the craft party. Her efforts to provide coping materials had helped some, but tension was still in the air, and she had the feeling it was going to be a long night.

/

Cosette hadn't realized that she'd fallen asleep until her phone woke her. She reached for it, but in her sleepy daze, she didn't quite make it in time, and the call went to voicemail. Glancing at the clock, she could see that it was just after 4. Usually, the only person to call this early was her dad (who never seemed to remember that some people liked to sleep through the sunrise), but given the circumstances of the night before, she was fairly certain this call hadn't been from him.

As soon as she unlocked her phone, her suspicions were confirmed. Eponine was the one who'd called her, and she'd tried five times. Cosette said a quick prayer that everything was all right, and hit redial. Eponine picked up immediately.

"Cosette, thank fuck. Look, I'm sorry to bother you right now– "

"It's no problem, really."

"Do you think we could come over to your place? We'd go to mine, but I'm not sure if we're being followed, and I don't want to go back there for a bit just in case someone figures out where we're staying."

Cosette decided not to comment on this. "Who's 'we'?" she asked instead.

"Gav and Azelma, and 'Parnasse and R. I know it's a lot of us, but…"

"It's okay. Come on over."

There was a soft knock on her door, and Eponine's voice sounded through both the phone and the wall. "We're outside."

Cosette rushed over to the door and pulled it open. "Were you just waiting out there?" she demanded.

"Maybe?"

Cosette shook her head. "Are you okay?"

"I guess."

"Then come here." She opened her arms and pulled Eponine into a hug. "I was worried about you, you know."

Eponine made a little sniffling noise and buried her head in the crook of Cosette's neck. For a second, Cosette forgot that they were standing on her doorstep, and that there were four other people waiting to be let in. Then, she heard a hesitant cough behind her, and was jolted back to reality.

"Um, can we come in now?"

Cosette released Eponine and stepped back to see Gavroche staring at her, looking unusually subdued. She reached out to draw him into the room.

"Sorry. Come on in, all of you."

Gavroche needed no further prompting, and entered in immediately. Eponine and Grantaire followed him. Finally, Montparnasse came in, leading a little girl by the hand. She looked frightened and ill-cared for, but even so Cosette could see that she was a sweet-looking little thing, with big eyes and delicate features. There was something in her appearance and demeanor that was reminiscent of Jehan, and she determined right then and there that she would do all she could for this girl. She smiled and held out her hand.

"You must be Azelma."

Azelma stared at the proffered hand, but didn't take it. The only indication that she'd even heard was a slight move to hide behind Montparnasse, who coughed and cleared his throat. "She's uh, pretty tired. Maybe she could just go to sleep right now?"

"Sure, of course." Cosette motioned to the bathroom. "Why don't you just go get ready for bed in there? We'll be out here when you're done."

"Could she borrow something to sleep in?" asked Eponine. "We didn't really get a chance to grab much when we left."

Cosette went to her dresser to find the softest sleep set she could, and tossed it over to Eponine.

"Will this work?"

"Perfect."

Eponine shepherded her sister into the bathroom and closed the door. The others looked around uncertainly, as if realizing for the first time where they were.

"Is this okay?" asked Grantaire. "I know we didn't really ask you or anything."

Cosette waved him off. "Don't worry about it. This is what I'm here for, you know?"

Grantaire still looked uncertain, and Cosette wanted to give him some reassurance, but she wasn't sure what to say. At that moment, though, a distraction provided itself in the form of Enjolras, who sat up from his makeshift bed on the love seat and looked around confusedly.

"Are there more people in here now?"

Cosette bit back a smile and nodded solemnly. "Yeah, the rescue squad just got back."

"Really?" Enjolras struggled to his feet and came over to see for himself, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Is everything okay?"

Montparnasse shrugged and made a face. "Sort of?" Grantaire cleared his throat, gesturing subtly towards Gavroche, and Montparnasse coughed awkwardly. "I mean, yeah! Everything's real good!"

"That's wonderful!" Enjolras went to hug all of them in turn. Gavroche looked nonplussed; Grantaire looked blissful. Montparnasse seemed strangely touched, and Cosette wondered exactly how long it had been since someone had given him a hug.

"I'm so glad you're all okay," Enjolras went on, smiling radiantly at all of them. "I'm sorry I couldn't be any help! Was it hard to pull off?"

The rescue squad members looked at each other, then at Gavroche. Grantaire took Enjolras's hand to lead him over to a seat. "Come sit with me. I'll tell you how it went down."

"Okay!"

They sat down in the corner and began to talk together in low voices. Gavroche looked over at them unhappily.

"What, so you'll tell Mr. Nerd about it, but not me?"

"That's right." Montparnasse cuffed him on the back of the head. "Go get ready for bed with your sister, kiddo."

After a few seconds of intense glaring, Gavroche went. As soon as she heard the bathroom door click shut, Cosette turned to Montparnasse.

"How bad was it?"

Montparnasse wrinkled his perfect nose. "Pretty bad."

"How bad? Is Eponine okay?"

"Theoretically, I guess? She's pretty tough. But I gotta be honest with ya. This was a trip."

"What do you mean?"

"Our plan kinda broke down in the middle. We had to improvise. And I mean, we're good at that, but these are hard-core assholes we're dealing with, you know? All kinds of fucked up. We were in a pretty tight spot there for awhile."

"But you got away okay, right?"

"I mean, I guess. But we're not safe yet, no way."

"Oh dear." Cosette was prepared to ask for more details, but at this moment, Eponine and her siblings came out of the bathroom, changed and looking slightly cleaner. She smiled, pretending she hadn't just been discussing them. "Hey guys. All ready for bed?"

"It's too late for bed," Gavroche grumbled. "I could just drink some coffee and pull an all-nighter or something."

"Nope, you're too young for that." Montparnasse swatted him lightly. "Go off with you, now. And take Azelma with you."

"Fine." Gavroche stuck out his tongue, but didn't make any further arguments. Cosette wondered exactly what it was he'd been through that night.

"You guys can take my bed," she said. "Do whatever you need to get comfortable, I don't mind."

"And don't worry about school tomorrow," added Eponine. "Just this once, I'll call you in sick. But don't start making a habit out of it or anything."

Gavroche grinned at her. "Thanks, man."

"Yeah, yeah. Off to bed, now."

Gavroche scampered off, Azelma on his tail. Eponine turned to Cosette.

"I'm so sorry about all of this. I promise you, we'll be out of here by tomorrow."

Cosette waved her off. "Seriously, don't worry about it. This is what I'm here for."

Eponine's lower lip trembled, and she blinked rapidly. Cosette hesitated for a second, then reached out to wrap her arms around her. For the second time that night, Eponine relaxed into her embrace, and Cosette thought her heart might actually be in danger of exploding. This time, however, they weren't on the doorstep, and there was no reason to let go. It was a solid minute before she finally loosened her hold to hold the other girl at arm's length, brushing a stray lock of hair out of her face.

"You're going to be okay, you hear me? I'll make it okay. I'll do anything." Eponine looked up at her through long, silky lashes, completely speechless, and Cosette felt suddenly shy. Maybe that had been too much. She touched Eponine's cheek one more time, then stepped back. "Anyway, you should probably get to bed too. Do you want to share the couch?"

"No, um, that's okay. I wouldn't want to disturb you." Was it Cosette's imagination, or did Eponine look a little flustered? She decided not to read into it.

"Are you sure? There's definitely room. You're so little."

"Oh, um. You're- no. I mean, the floor is fine."

Cosette shook her head. "No sir. That's terrible for your back. Take the couch. I can squeeze in with Jehan and Feuilly."

"No, that's not it. I, you…" Now Eponine really did look flustered. She shook her head as if reprimanding herself. "It's fine. I don't mind sharing with you."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, um. Don't worry about it."

"Okay."

Cosette went to get some more blankets and pillows, and made up the most comfortable couch-bed she could, while Eponine stood quietly watching her. At one point, Montparnasse muttered something that Cosette didn't quite catch, but Eponine flushed a lovely dark red and flipped him off.

"I'm going to sleep," she said. "And I'm not listening to you."

Montparnasse blew a kiss at her. "You love me."

Eponine shook her head at him, then looked at Cosette. "Do you mind?"

"Of course not. Make yourself comfy."

Eponine hesitated for one more second before climbing onto the couch and wrapping the blankets around herself. She looked like a cocoon, Cosette thought. It was adorable.

"You can sleep anywhere," she told Montparnasse, who grinned at her.

"I'll go chaperone R and Enj, make sure they don't do anything inappro-pro. Don't you worry about me. Have a nice night now!" He waggled his eyebrows dramatically, eliciting a choked sort of sound from Eponine, and took himself off to the corner. Cosette smiled fondly. Really, criminal or not, he was nothing but a giant dork.

Ignoring the fluttering in her stomach, she climbed up onto the couch next to Eponine and tucked herself into the covers. Eponine went stiff, and for a second, Cosette was afraid she'd crossed a line somewhere.

"Are you sure this is okay?" she asked.

"It's okay."

"Are you positive?"

"Positive."

"But are you actually, though?"

"Yes, oh my god. Go to sleep already."

Despite her quick words, though, Eponine didn't sound too annoyed, and she stopped holding herself so stiffly, so Cosette thought she could stop worrying. She wanted desperately to fold her arms around the other girl, tuck her under her chin and hold her close, but she didn't want to overstep her boundaries. Eponine probably wouldn't appreciate the gesture, and anyway, this was no time to try and romance her. That could wait until later, when they weren't in the middle of a crisis. Still, Cosette couldn't resist reaching over to graze her thumb across Eponine's cheek. _You're so beautiful. There's not a star in the sky that could outshine you._

"What?"

 _Oh crap, did I say that out loud?_ "Um, nothing. Just, uh, goodnight."

Eponine looked a little confused, but fortunately, she seemed to accept Cosette's fumbling attempt at normalcy. "Oh, okay," she said. "Goodnight." They were quiet for a second, and Cosette thought her heart had finally started to calm down. Then Eponine spoke up again. "Cosette?"

"What's up?"

"You didn't have to do this. And I know it might not seem like a big deal to you, but it is to me. You being here, I mean. So, um. Thank you."

Cosette felt her heart jump again, and she dared to reach over and clasp Eponine's hand in her own. "You don't have to thank me," she said. "This is what I'm here for, no questions asked."

"What, for impromptu sleepovers?"

"No." Cosette gave Eponine's hand a squeeze. "For you."

Eponine was silent for a minute, but she worked to lace their fingers together. When she spoke, it sounded like she was trying hard to sound casual. "You promise you don't mind?"

 _You don't mind?_ What an absurd question. This was the absolute least she could offer. Cosette knew that she would do the impossible if it meant giving Eponine a chance for happiness. She brought Eponine's hand to her lips in a not-quite kiss, one lady's assurance to another.

"I promise, Eponine. I promise."

/notes/

Enjolras is kind of sad in this one, and he's being really unhealthy, but I don't think it's too bad?

References to some truly bad child abuse by the Thènardiers (and co), though.

**I feel like Jehan would be really into Christina Rossetti. also Cosette likes really action-y tv shows fight me on this


	11. Cosette and Eponine Learn Legalese

/notes at the end/

/* chapter 6 */

Jehan hadn't been in her room in almost a week. Sure, she stopped by briefly every day to shower and change, and once to pick up a hangover remedy for Montparnasse (that hadn't been a fun day), but for the most part, she'd managed to keep away.

Why? She couldn't really say. Cosette was lovely, and all things considered, it really wasn't bad living with her. She wasn't excessively intrusive, she was neat and tidy, she kept respectable hours, and she didn't have creepy boyfriends propositioning Jehan for sex each time she walked in the room. All desirable traits in a roommate, and yet there was just _something_ about the situation that didn't sit right.

Granted, nothing sat right with Jehan these days. She felt as if she was walking around in a dream, going through the daily routines of her life, doing what was expected of her, and not experiencing any of it. Every new day was just another bleak stretch of hours until she could escape into sleep– but when the day ended, sleep wouldn't come. Each morning, she awoke less rested than she'd been the night before.

She rarely wrote anymore. Poetry took energy she didn't have, and on the few occasions she sat down and opened her journal, she couldn't think of anything to say. She cursed herself often enough for this, but even the harshest diatribe couldn't bring the words back. Some vital part of her seemed to be slipping away, and although the idea was disturbing in a vague sort of way, the most terrifying part was how little she could bring herself to care.

Classes helped some. She could always rely on her lectures to be interesting, and although she found it impossible to speak up in discussion, her TAs were understanding, and for the most part, let her be. But classes couldn't last all day, and once she'd completed her homework and reading, neither of which ever took her long, she was back to was left to her own devices, feeling emptier than ever. Time was passing, she supposed, but that was it.

On her better days, she would sometimes accept her friends' invitations to spend time. True, she was convinced that they hated her most of the time, and much of her late-night rumination was devoted to questioning whether or not she was an unconscionable burden to them (she always decided she was– unequivocally so), but when she was feeling up to it, it was nice to see them all.

That was why she was here now. Montparnasse had decided that everyone needed a break from midterms, and had invited everyone over to his and Grantaire's apartment for a night of bad TV and junk food. Since she'd been having a decent day, Jehan had accepted his invitation, and now she was sandwiched on the couch next to Bahorel and Feuilly, watching some sort of documentary about conspiracy theories. According to Grantaire, it was an excellent show, but she wasn't really following any of it. She wasn't really following anything, to be honest. As usual, everything felt unreal– only now it was unreal in a supremely noisy way. Why were her friends so loud and cheerful? That was what she wanted to know. Eponine was with her siblings, and Enjolras had begged off, supposedly to study for an exam (although she knew for a fact that he had no midterms at the moment), but everyone else was there, and they were all talking and laughing happily. Jehan was happy for them, she really was, but they were _loud_ , and she could only take so much. Every proclamation, every note of laughter was another barb under her skin. Trying to be unobtrusive (since anxious or not, the last thing she wanted to be was rude), she sank a little deeper into her blanket, pulling it up further around her face. She thought she'd been circumspect, but of course Feuilly noticed and turned to her with a worried look.

"Is everything okay?"

Not wanting to make a big deal out of it, Jehan nodded. Reasonably speaking, she thought this should be the end of it, but being who he was, Feuilly didn't look convinced.

"You've been quiet for awhile," he said. "You're sure you're fine?"

Jehan was ready to nod again, or maybe offer some kind of affirmative noise, but at that moment the room exploded into laughter, and she shrank back against the couch, all her nerves on edge.

Feuilly pursed his lips. "Is this overwhelming for you?"

His face held nothing but kindness and sympathy, and Jehan thought she could tell him the truth. She nodded, putting her hands up by her ears to indicate that the room was too loud for her.

Feuilly didn't even blink. "Okay. Do you want to leave?"

Jehan did, but she wasn't about to walk back to her dorm by herself, and there was no way she was going to pull anyone away to walk with her when they were all having such a good time. "Don't have to," she managed to get out. That was good, she was talking. Maybe she could do this after all.

"Are you sure?"

"Mm-hmm." Jehan slid down deeper into the blanket and closed her eyes. All she had to do was wait this out for a few more hours, and then she could go find somewhere quiet. Feuilly ruffled her hair.

"If you say so. But if you do want to leave, just tell me, okay? I promise, I don't mind walking you back."

"'Kay."

Feuilly gave her one last pat on the head, then resumed his conversation with Bahorel, his voice angled away from her, and quieter than before. Jehan thought he was being fairly considerate, and she appreciated it, but it still added to the buzz in her head, which seemed to be growing louder every minute. People were laughing, and singing, and there seemed to be someone shouting almost all the time. At one point, someone came stumbling over to the couch and almost sat on her, eliciting shouts of hilarity from everyone else. As far as she could tell, there was never a lull in the noise from any sector.

She did her best for as long as she could, but after about half an hour, she couldn't take it any more. Rude or not, she had to get out of there, and the sooner the better. She reached over and tugged on Feuilly's sleeve insistently, and he turned around and seemed to grasp the situation at once.

"Are you okay? Do you need to leave?" Jehan nodded, unable to speak. "Okay. Let's get you out of here." He turned to Bahorel. "We're going to go. See you later though!"

Bahorel seemed like he was about to protest, but after a stern look from Feuilly, he nodded. "All righty. Have a good night, then!"

Feuilly slapped him on the back. "You too." He stood up and helped Jehan to her feet as well. "Do you have everything?" Jehan nodded; she hadn't brought anything with her tonight. "Okay. Let's go." He led her to the door, waving at everyone as he passed them, but thankfully not stopping to chat with any of them. For her part, Jehan kept her head down. She hated to be rude, but she didn't think she could manage to look anyone in the eye.

Once they were out of the building, Jehan felt a little better. It wasn't dead silent, but it was much better than being inside, and at least there weren't any people around in the immediate vicinity. She breathed a little sigh of relief. Feuilly looked at her with mild concern.

"All right?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Good." He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "Do you want to go back to your room?"

Jehan shook her head. She would have loved to settle into her own bed, maybe scroll through Tumblr on her own computer while wrapped up in her own comforter, but it was likely that Cosette would bring at least one of their friends back with her, and Jehan didn't think she could handle that. Even if Cosette did come back alone, just her presence was stressful enough. No, there was no doubt about it; Jehan would have to find another place to stay that night.

Feuilly was quiet for a minute, and Jehan realized that they had encountered a dilemma. Since Feuilly's apartment was so dangerous, he never let any of his friends go there, and since all their other friends were otherwise occupied, there didn't seem to be a lot of options. Jehan was starting to weigh the pros and cons of staying overnight in the library, when Feuilly finally spoke.

"I don't want to ask Eponine, since she's with her siblings, but would you mind going over to see Enjolras? I'm sure he's still up."

Jehan thought about this for a second. She didn't want to impose, but since Enjolras rarely went to bed before 3, he was certain to be awake, and since both Courfeyrac and Combeferre were staying the night with Montparnasse and Grantaire, he would be alone in the apartment. Besides, he lived quite close, only a few streets over. It wasn't perfect, but his place seemed to be the best option. She nodded her affirmation.

"Perfect. I don't think he'll mind. I'll text him right now."

Feuilly typed out a quick message, asking if they could stop by. After a few minutes, though, there was still no response, and Jehan was shivering in her thin sweater. Feuilly sighed and sent another message before putting his phone away.

"Let's just go," he said. "I really think he'll be okay with it."

Jehan felt a bit bad about this, but she was cold, and she really wanted a place to sit quietly and rest. Besides, this was Enjolras. Only two days ago, he'd wanted to donate his entire winter wardrobe to the local homeless shelter, and had been almost out the door before Combeferre stopped him. Out of all their friends, he was probably the most likely to open his home to them on short notice.

"Okay," she said. Feuilly smiled at her.

"Awesome. Let's get out of here, then." He took her hand again and began to lead her up the street to where their new host was waiting.

/

Enjolras didn't answer the door immediately. Feuilly had to knock three times, and even then it took a few minutes, during which they could both hear someone very obviously rustling around inside. Finally, the door cracked open, and a pair of frightened blue eyes peeked out from around the frame.

"Hello?"

"Hey Enj, sorry to bother you so late. I don't know if you got my text?"

"Oh." Enjolras pulled back the chain and opened the door all the way to wave sheepishly at them. Jehan could see that he was holding one of Courfeyrac's decorative oversized bottles. Probably, this had been the only weapon-like thing he'd been able to find at short notice. Feuilly pointed to it with an amused expression.

"Did you think we were trying to break in through the front door?"

Enjolras blushed. "You know, it doesn't hurt to be safe."

"True." Feuilly paused for a second. "Wait. Have you been crying?"

"No, that's ridiculous." Here, Enjolras paused to sniffle and rub his eyes. "I don't cry, okay! Anyway, why don't you come inside?"

"Uh, okay." Feuilly and Jehan followed him into the apartment, stopping only to take off their shoes and coats and leave them by the door. Jehan noticed that there was an enormous pile of blankets and pillows on the floor and an open laptop with a news article on it on the coffee table. As she had suspected, though, there were no textbooks or study materials of any kind in sight.

"Sorry for bothering you," said Feuilly again. "Did you know we were coming over?"

"No, I'm sorry. I haven't been checking my phone."

"Don't apologize! Is it okay for us to stay here?"

"Of course! Wait." Enjolras stopped abruptly and frowned. "Is something wrong?"

Jehan pulled on his sleeve. "It's me."

"It's you…? Um, well– are you okay?"

"She's not feeling so good," Feuilly explained. "The party was kind of loud, and it's pretty late, so we thought we'd leave, you know?"

"Oh!" Understanding dawned on Enjolras's face. "I know, it's okay. I won't make any noise, and you can stay here and it'll be better. Is that okay?"

"Don't want to bother you," whispered Jehan. Enjolras shook his head vehemently.

"No, it's okay. I'm not bothered, really!" He picked up a pillow from the couch and gave it to her with a satisfied nod. "There you go."

"Um. Thanks?"

"Oh! Do you want water? Or coffee? No, not coffee. Milk? I can make milk."

"How do you make– "

"Or, wait. Tea. That's better. I'll make tea. Sit down, okay? I'll be back." Without waiting for a response, he walked briskly off to the kitchen, leaving Jehan and Feuilly alone in the living room. Jehan looked around, unsure if she should sit down or not. Would it be rude to make herself cozy? She didn't want to be the type of person who walked into someone else's house expecting to be waited on. On the other hand, Enjolras had offered. Feuilly solved the problem by sitting down on the couch and patting the seat next to him. For the hundredth time that night, she was thankful for his presence. How she'd gotten along without him before, she had no idea.

In a few minutes, Enjolras came back, holding a book with two mugs of tea balanced on it, and two pairs of mittens. He gave a pair each to Jehan and Feuilly and looked pointedly at them until they put them on. Only then did he give each of them their cups.

"Maybe don't drink it yet," he advised. "I'm pretty sure the water went well past boiling."

Jehan didn't think this sounded quite right somehow, but she didn't have the energy to question it. Feuilly held one hand experimentally over his cup.

"How long did you heat these?" he asked.

Enjolras shrugged. "I don't know. I was thinking about gerrymandering."

"Aww." Feuilly gave him a warm smile. "Thank you, love. This is lovely."

Enjolras smiled back, but then immediately looked worried again. "Do you need anything else? What can I get you?"

Feuilly looked at Jehan. "What do you need?" Jehan shook her head.

"I'm okay."

"Are you sure?" Enjolras fluttered from the couch to the doorway and back again. "We have stuff. I can get you stuff."

"No, no. Sit down and relax."

"Okay." Enjolras promptly burrowed back into his blanket nest and pulled one of the fleeces over his head like a hood. "Oh, but if you do need anything, ask me, okay? Because I can get it for you! Or try to get it for you. Or something. Just… yeah, I'm here."

Disoriented though she was, Jehan couldn't help but be touched. Sure, Enjolras was awkward, but he was also caring, and it was clear that he was trying to help. _What did I ever do to deserve friends like these_ , she thought. _I really am one of the lucky ones this time_. She gave Enjolras her best I-love-you-even-though-I-can't-express-things-right-now face, hoping he would understand what she was trying to say. He cocked his head to one side and looked slightly puzzled, which wasn't all that surprising given that it was him, but he also smiled dazzlingly at her, so she thought at least some of her message must have gone through. She sighed softly and settled back against the cushions. Tonight hadn't been good at all, but maybe for now, things would be okay.

/

Jehan woke up at around 6 the next morning. Feuilly was still asleep on the couch beside her, and Enjolras was lying on the floor, curled in on himself like a cat. Both of them shifted in their sleep as she got up, but neither of them awoke, and she felt a rush of pride. _I would make an awesome spy. Montparnasse would be proud of me_. Carefully, she padded out of the living room to go shower and get ready for her day.

Half an hour later, she was all ready to go, fresh and alert, and dressed in an outfit she'd pilfered from Enjolras's closet. She thought he wouldn't mind, and besides, he stole clothes from everyone so often that he really wasn't in a place to object. It wasn't that she objected to people seeing her in the same clothes she'd worn the day before– what people thought of her outfits was very low on her list of concerns– but she hated how clothes felt after she'd slept in them. Joly was right; dirt was really unendurable.

She made her way out of the apartment and down the street towards campus, enjoying the calm stillness of the early morning. As of yet, the air was cool and fresh, although the sun was already out in full force, and it promised to be a beautiful day. Humming softly to herself, she rounded the gap through the De Neve driveway– really, it was amazing how close Enjolras's apartment was to campus– and sat down down on one of the low brick walls to enjoy the pleasant weather. For the first time in awhile, she thought it wouldn't be inconceivable for her to write something, maybe a reflection on the way the sun was just starting to warm the bricks, or a study on the way the air felt as it brushed against her skin. Yes, that would do. She opened up the notepad on her phone, intending to document a little something of how she was feeling on this lovely morning.

Before she could type a single word, however, the door to the lower level of the De Neve building opened, and an ear-splitting screech shattered the stillness of the air.

"Hey Dykstra! I didn't get to sleep last night, so you ain't gonna sleep this morning!"

Jehan gasped and jumped to her feet, all thoughts of poetry forgotten. She _recognized_ that voice. How could she not, when she'd had to endure its insults for almost an entire quarter? There was no doubt about it, it was her old roommate, and she had only a second before the girl recognized her. She looked around in a panic, trying to find the best way out of the courtyard, as Josephine continued to shout.

"This is for you, floor 8! You and your loud ass parties! Maybe next time you'll think before keeping up the whole building on a FUCKIN' WEDNESDAY NIGHT!"

Jehan couldn't help rolling her eyes. Josephine always had been a bit spoiled. Dykstra's floor 8 hadn't been too bad, all things considered, and she was willing to bet it hadn't gotten any worse between now and when she'd moved out. Besides, Josephine wasn't exactly a wilting flower herself, and it was likely she was only upset because she hadn't been invited to the happenings last night. As if to confirm her suspicions, Josephine came out further into the courtyard, holding, of all things, a boom box.

"Next time, you could at least let me in on it!" she shrilled. "Here's a little tune for all of you fuckers!" She switched on the stereo, and a guttural heavy-metal scream filled the air. Jehan groaned on behalf of all the Dykstra residents. She would hate to be woken up in this way. Josephine began to parade around the courtyard, and Jehan realized she'd have to get out soon if she wanted to avoid a confrontation. Trying not to draw too much attention to herself, she crept around the bushes and up to the steps leading out of the courtyard. Thankfully, Josephine was too immersed in her revenge-driven reveille to notice. Jehan practically ran up the steps and out on to the sidewalk, thanking all the stars in the heavens that her roommate was so single-mindedly petty.

Usually, Jehan didn't eat breakfast. She was never hungry in the morning, and besides, she usually tried to minimize the amount of human interaction she had. Today, however, she decided to stop in at Bruin Cafe for a cup of tea and a croissant. There was no point in having a meal plan if she didn't use it, after all. Fortunately, there was hardly anyone around, and the student worker at the cash register just blinked at her in a red-eyed haze as he took her order. She thought she was probably fairly safe from the more frightening aspects of social interaction at this point.

The only other people at the coffee station were two exhausted-looking girls whom Jehan recognized slightly from her phonetics class. They had their heads buried in their notes, and barely looked up when the barista called out their order numbers. Jehan wondered what they'd been doing to get them so tired; surely their shared linguistics class wasn't the cause. As if to answer her question, one of the girls looked over and addressed her.

"Are you ready for the midterm today?"

"Wait. What?"

"The midterm. For Ling 103?"

Jehan thought she might be hallucinating. "We have a midterm today?"

"Uh, yeah." The girl looked at her askance. "You're kidding, right?"

"Um."

"Ooh." Both girls were looking at her now, wincing sympathetically. "Well, I'm sure you'll be okay. We have all day to study."

"Right." Jehan chuckled weakly, trying to look as if she wasn't literally dying. It seemed to work, because the girls just smiled at her and left, murmuring a "good luck" to her as they went on her way. Now left alone, Jehan was left to face the unimaginable horror to which her eyes had been opened. How had she not known when the midterm was? Had she really been that absorbed in her own problems? She took her cup of tea and left in a daze, not sure where she was going, but feeling a vague sense of urgency in getting there. Maybe if she really pulled it together, she'd be able to get through without embarrassing herself too much? No, that didn't seem reasonable. There was no way this was going to be anything but a massive catastrophe.

Somehow, she made it down Bruin Walk before the noise in her head got to be too much and she had to sit down on one of the brick walls outside the library. She was dimly aware of the fact that there were people around, and they probably thought she was weird, but she couldn't bring herself to move. There was too much static, too much white noise, too many thought swirling too quickly, and her breath was coming too fast, and she thought she might black out or throw up or both– _oh god was that a thing that happened_? Despite all previous evidence to the contrary, she thought she really might die. And then who would even know about it? Who would tell her family? _God, Jehan, you're so lonely and pathetic. Can't do school right, can't do friends right, can't do anything right. What a failure_. Jehan closed her eyes and tried to concentrate, trying to get the thoughts to stop, but it was almost impossible to do anything reasonable in this state. She thought she should maybe try some breathing exercises or something, but nothing seemed to be working, and that was making everything worse. _Stop it,_ she thought. _Calm down, stop it, stop_ …

"Stop what?"

Jehan dragged her eyes open to see Montparnasse standing in front of her, head cocked to one side. What he was doing here on campus at this hour, she had no idea, but it didn't really occur to question it. He was here, and that was what was important. Half of her wanted to tell him to go away, and the other half wanted to leap into his arms and beg him to take her home, but she was unable to articulate either of these thoughts, so she just looked at him wide-eyed, hoping he would understand. After a second, he dusted off the bricks and gingerly sat himself down beside her, setting his book bag down at his feet.

"You okay?"

Jehan blinked at him, not sure if she should bother him with her problems. He seemed to take this as a negative.

"Aww, I'm sorry love. It's okay if you don't want to talk. I totally get it. But I need to know if it's okay for you to be here. Do you need to go somewhere quieter?"

Jehan wasn't really sure how to express _yes, but I don't want to bother you, so please don't worry about it and go on your way if you want_ without talking, so she settled for a nod, paired with a shrug and a downcast gaze. Montparnasse considered for a moment, then nodded determinedly.

"Okay, let's go to Royce. The place above the TA offices is pretty warm and quiet and has nice lighting. We can hang out there." He stood gracefully, and in one smooth motion, picked up both his backpack and Jehan. She squeaked in surprise, but when he looked at her questioningly, she patted his cheek to show that it was okay. Being carried around was always nice, especially at times like these. Montparnasse gave her one of his rare warm smiles. "Great. Let's go."

As usual, Montparnasse was right. Royce was empty, and the atmosphere was serene. Jehan wondered how she'd never thought to come here before; surely she should have remembered that no one had classes on this side of the building. Once Montparnasse had set her down in a semi-secluded niche near the stairs, she began to look around, truly drinking in the atmosphere of the building. With its high ceiling and elegant architecture, it was almost sanctuarial, and she thought that someday, when she was feeling better, she would definitely come back here and properly appreciate it. While these thoughts were running through her mind, Montparnasse had sat down next to her, and was shifting nervously. Finally, he burst out,

"You saw me, I know you saw me. I was coming out of the library, and you saw me. And I know you're too polite to ask for an explanation, but you're just going to keep wondering. Fine! I'll explain myself. But you can't breathe a word of this to anyone, okay?"

Jehan blinked at him. What was this all of a sudden?

"The truth is…" Montparnasse took a deep breath, bracing himself to continue. "I was studying. Okay? I go to the library while everyone else is asleep so I can study without anyone knowing. I do all my assignments and everything. And you know what the worst thing is? It's one of the best parts of the day. One of my favorite… Oh my god, I'm a hack." He ran a hand through his hair, looking terribly distressed. "Anyway, now you know. Please don't tell anyone."

This hadn't been what Jehan was expecting in any way, shape, or form. Even if she had been able to speak, she would have been struck dumb by the sheer impossibility of what she'd just heard. Montparnasse, studying? Up until now, she'd assumed that his strange hours and mysterious habits were a product of his criminal lifestyle. On some level, she knew that he was a full-time student who presumably completed homework assignments and took exams, but the thought of him actually sitting down with a highlighter and a course reader seemed incredible. Although, truth to be told, it was almost as much of a stretch to imagine some of her other friends studying. Bossuet, for instance, skipped more classes than he attended, and Bahorel hadn't been to his poli sci lecture once this quarter. She supposed it wasn't too strange that Montparnasse secretly dabbled in academia. Why not, after all? She glanced over to see him sitting with his hands over his face in shame, peeking at her through the gap in his fingers. Honestly, what a dork.

"Promise you won't tell anyone? Especially Grantaire and Eponine?" His voice was slightly higher than normal, and Jehan thought he was actually nervous. How silly– she would never betray anyone's secret, no matter how ridiculous she thought it was, and he should know this very well. She nodded seriously, and he breathed an immense sigh of relief.

"Thanks, kitten. Jeez, I'm glad you're the one who found me out. The others would never let me hear the end of it." He paused, then went on reflectively. "Honestly, I'm surprised no one ever found out before this. I mean, I been doing this since winter quarter of my second year. It's not like I wanted to or anything, but I had no other choice. Like, I was takin' phonetics, you know? Grantaire caught me practicing my bilabial fricatives, and I had to pretend like I was making up some kinda new street slang. Had to go around going "uwu! uwu!" for a week! That's not– " Here, he broke off, catching sight of Jehan's face. "What is it?"

"Y-you…" Jehan tried to get her mouth to work again. This was important. "You took phonetics?"

"Hell yeah, I did. Honors contract and everything."

"Do– do you remember…"

"Honey, this is Mont- "Eidetic Memory" -parnasse you're talking to right here. I remember everything."

"Oh! Um, can you help me, um…" Jehan blushed and trailed off, unsure of how to end the sentence. Fortunately, Montparnasse understood what she was trying to say. He smiled brightly and patted her on the head with one elegant hand.

"I gotcha. Where do we start?"

/

Jehan left her classroom feeling surprisingly good. The midterm hadn't been easy at all, and she wished she'd had a bit more time to study, but her last-minute study session with Montparnasse had helped quite a bit. Really, she thought her most urgent problem hadn't been a lack of knowledge; it had been nerves. She'd understood most of the material already, so after she'd gotten a chance to brush up on everything and hear some of Montparnasse's reassuring words, she had been fine. Overall, she thought she'd done tolerably well. She was still thinking about the last question as she made her way down the stairs and out of Bunche Hall. Had it been a palatal stop or fricative? So absorbed was she in this problem that when she turned the corner and saw Enjolras there, she let out a scream and nearly dropped her phone. This seemed to startle him, because he too squeaked and jumped backwards. It took a second for them both to process what had just happened, but then they looked at each other and burst into giggles, blushing from embarrassment, but amused nonetheless. Jehan thought there were few people she'd rather be surprised by. Speaking of…

"Why are you here?"

Enjolras looked worried, and Jehan hastened to clarify. "Not that I'm not happy to see you, of course. But I didn't think you had a class over here."

"Oh." Enjolras's Bambi eyes widened even further, and he blinked innocently. "Well, you know, I was in the neighborhood."

"In the neighborhood?"

"In the… vicinity?"

"Well, why?"

"Oh, you know. The area was here, and so am I, so. I was there. You know?"

He began to play with one of the curls that had come loose from his ponytail, smiling nervously and looking from under his lashes. Jehan thought he was probably the least subtle person she'd ever met.

"Were you trying to find me?"

"No-o… well, yes. I was. Um, sorry."

"Oh no!" Jehan immediately felt bad. "Don't be sorry! I'm happy to see you, you know!"

"Really?"

"Really!"

Enjolras's face lit up. "Oh, good! I'm so happy to hear it! Because, you know, I always like to see you too. And, uh, yeah. That's how we roll!" He stopped and frowned. "Yeah, Courf's right. That sounds silly."

It did, but Jehan was a linguistics major. Saying weird things was her bread-and-butter. She patted Enjolras on the arm and gave him an encouraging smile.

"Why were you looking for me? Did you need something?"

"Nope!"

"Did someone else need something?"

"I don't think so?"

"Then…"

"Oh, well you know! I always want to see my buddies! Citizens of the world, you know?" He tried to slap her on the back, but hesitated at the last minute and awkwardly let his hand swing back down to his side without making contact. "Just wanna check in on all y'all. Well, y'all singular. So, uh, you."

"Check in on me?" Jehan frowned. "Wait. Did Feuilly send you?"

"Feuilly? No. Why, should he have?"

"Well, all right. Were you talking to Montparnasse, then?"

"Not today."

"Hmm." Jehan stopped to think about this. She would have thought that Feuilly and Montparnasse were the only ones who would suspect her of having problems. But if Enjolras, who was about as observant as a toaster, had noticed her struggles, she had to have been showing more of her issues than she'd thought. This wasn't good. It wasn't Enjolras's awkward little errand that bothered her– she knew his problems were similar to hers, and she didn't mind his knowing. But if he knew, that meant the others did too. The last thing she wanted to do was worry her friends, and frankly, she felt fairly uncomfortable having them all know what she was dealing with. Someday, maybe, she would let them in on it, but now was not the time. She wondered how obvious it was, and who knew, and whether or not she could find anything out right now. This was something that had to be explored. She was just opening her mouth, when Enjolras spoke at the same time.

"Are you– "

"Do you– "

"Oh." Enjolras gestured at her. "Go ahead."

"No, you go ahead."

"No, you."

"No really, I insist!"

"Oh, okay." Enjolras smiled brightly at her. "Do you want to get food with me?"

Jehan's first impulse was to say no. For one thing, it was only about 5:15. By her standards, that was early, although she was learning that many of her friends thought differently. More importantly, however, she was still feeling on edge, and eating with anyone, even a friend, was stressful even under the best circumstances. On the other hand, though, she hadn't eaten all day, and she thought she might feel better if she had something in her stomach. Besides, Enjolras was the pickiest eater she'd ever met. He'd probably be more focused on dissecting his food than on talking to her. She took a deep breath, and nodded.

"Okay, sure."

"Oh, good!" Enjolras's radiant expression chased away the last of her apprehensions. He seemed so genuinely _happy_ to be hanging out with her that she couldn't bring herself to feel nervous. Still smiling cheerfully, he took her hand and began to tow her off towards the hill. "Let's go to Bruin Plate! They have that angel food cake today. Come on, let's go before the line gets too long!"

Half an hour later, Enjolras and Jehan were situated at one of the window tables at the back of the dining hall. They'd managed not to bump into anyone, which Jehan was profoundly grateful for, and now they were eating in peace. That is to say, Jehan was eating in peace. Enjolras was frowning at his bowl of kale-and-butternut salad and not paying any attention to anything around him. As far as Jehan could tell, he seemed to be trying to separate the leaves with sauce from the leaves without, and he was so focused on the task that she'd managed to get through three of her plates without him so much as lifting his head. She wasn't watching closely, but judging from the amount of vegetables left in the bowl, he'd barely touched his food. Finally, he looked up and set his fork down, apparently done for the moment.

"So! How have you been sleeping these days?"

"What?" Jehan wasn't exactly sure where this had come from. It didn't seem like standard dinner talk. Enjolras seemed to misinterpret her confusion.

"Oh sorry, I mean nights. Well, unless you sleep in the day? I know people do."

Jehan gave him a look. "Why are you asking this?"

"No reason."

"Uh, okay." Jehan hesitated for a second, thinking about the past week or so. "Well, I don't sleep well, to be honest. It's hard to get to sleep sometimes, you know? And then when I wake up in the night, it's hard to get back to sleep, so sometimes I just stay up."

"I know, right? That's why I do so much work at night! And the nightmares, don't even get me started…" Enjolras cut himself off with a shake of the head. "Anyway! Um, let's see. Do you often avoid seeing your friends?"

"You guys are my friends."

"Yeah, but like… okay. Well, um." He tapped his chin with one delicate finger, looking up at the ceiling. "Oh. What do you do in your spare time?"

"Shouldn't you know this?"

"I know you're a poet and a fashion designer and a connoisseur of beauty, and you read everything you can get your hands on, and you practice your flute in the Hedrick practice rooms and arrange music with Finale Notepad, and you visit the botanical gardens whenever you can because you're taking care of all the flowers there, yeah. But I mean, just recently, not in general. Like, what did you do yesterday?"

"I went to your apartment. You saw me."

"Fine. What did you do the day before yesterday?"

"I don't remember."

"Oh, well okay. I guess that was awhile ago." He lapsed into silence, staring down at the table. Just when Jehan decided he was about to start picking at his salad again, he looked up with a troubled expression.

"Why don't you ever talk about poetry anymore?"

Jehan wasn't prepared for this. "What do you mean?" she faltered. "I do talk about it. Don't I?"

"Not really." Enjolras clasped his hands under his chin and looked at her earnestly. "You know, it's okay if your interests change, I mean there was a time when Combeferre was into slugs, and then after that it was beetles, and then he liked bats for awhile, and now he won't stop talking about fungi, so it happens, you know? But I feel like that's not it. Is it?"

Jehan looked down at the table. Somehow, Enjolras had managed to cut to the heart of the matter. No, her interests hadn't changed; she still loved everything that she'd loved before. But nowadays, all of it seemed unattainable. She barely had the energy to get out of bed each day, and anything beyond that was just too much. Surviving was hard enough without having to have hobbies too. Unfortunately, she wasn't sure how to express this. It seemed ridiculous when she thought about it, and she didn't think Enjolras would understand, boundlessly energetic as he was. She settled for a halfhearted shrug.

"Maybe. Who knows?"

"Hey, it's okay, you know?" Enjolras looked, if possible, even more earnest. "It's okay if you're having a hard time with stuff, or struggling or whatever. We're all here for you, and we want to help you in any way we can, so– "

Jehan held up her hand to stop him. "Hold on. Are you trying to fix me right now?"

"Well, uh– "

"Because that's not okay. I'm not a cause, all right? I'm a person. You can't just roll in and magically save your poor little messed up Jehan. That's not how this works."

"Oh." Enjolras frowned as if this had never occurred to him. "But isn't that what I'm here for? To help?"

"To some extent, I suppose. But you're not a savior. Do you know this?" Enjolras looked like he wanted to argue, so Jehan went on before he could interrupt. "Let me make this clearer. You don't like it when Combeferre and Courfeyrac try to get you to talk about your feelings, right?"

"Well yeah, but that's because they're trying to fix me."

"Which is what you're trying to do for me right now."

"I mean…"

"Yes, you are. But you don't want anyone to do the same for you."

"Because I'm not important!"

"Because it's– what?"

Enjolras stared at her with a deer-in-the-headlights expression. "Uh, go on."

"No, what did you say?"

"Nothing. What did you say?"

"I was going to say that it's not possible to fix someone else because that has to come internally," said Jehan slowly. "But I think what you said was more interesting."

"No no, it really wasn't."

"Right." There was a pause as both of them stared at each other, Jehan processing this new information, and Enjolras looking like he wanted to run away. Finally, Jehan broke the silence. "So you don't want to be fixed because you're not important?"

"Um. Yes?"

"But other people are."

"Ye-es?"

"Okay. So you derive your worth by what you accomplish in the world."

"Exactly. Oh, wait. You're making a _gotcha_ face. Did I say something wrong?"

"You said something silly, that's what."

Enjolras looked offended. "What?"

"You think that every life has innate value. You're the most passionate advocate for humanity that I've ever seen. And yet, when it comes to you, there's a conditionality on your personhood. You're only important insofar as you're useful, and you're never useful enough. Don't you see it? It's not fair to impose standards on yourself that you don't even agree with. You're really being a silly duck right now."

"That's– I mean, I'm not– "

"Look." Jehan reached across the table to clasp his hand. "You're a good person no matter how much you accomplish, okay? That's nonnegotiable. But you can also be really ridiculous sometimes. I appreciate that you're trying to help me, I really do. But you can't fix me. I'm the only one who can do that. And you're the only one who can fix you. How about we just agree to support each other while we get through this?"

"Um. Yeah, I guess." Enjolras blinked, looking a little dazed. "To be honest, this is really not how I expected this conversation to go."

Jehan had to laugh. "If it's any consolation, I didn't either."

Enjolras squeezed her hand extra tight before letting go. He wasn't smiling, but the look in his eyes meant just as much. "Thank you."

"Of course, love." Jehan pushed her empty plates out of the way and clapped determinedly. "Now! Shall we go get dessert?"

/*

Eponine hadn't slept in two days. Part of her was concerned at this breach of health, and part of her was determined to see how far she could take things before something dire happened, but for the most part, she was just very tired. She'd actually caught herself nodding off during her 9:00 lecture, which was really just embarrassing, seeing as she'd always prided herself on her ability to be alert even on very little sleep.

It wasn't that she wanted to stay up, not really. Things just happened. First, there was that problem set for physics, and then the problems with her financial aid, and then that huge research paper for her writing GE– seriously, who assigned projects like that in the middle of the quarter? And of course, there was her absurd family situation. She hated to admit it, but she wasn't sure what to do from here. It wasn't often that she was at a complete loss like this; she couldn't even remember the last time she'd been so stuck without any idea of where to go. But she knew she had to do something, and do it soon. Just like with so many other areas of her life, she was operating on quite a limited window of time.

Because of this, and because she knew she couldn't keep it from her friends forever, she'd decided to ask them for advice. She didn't want to share the whole situation with them, of course; she didn't want to worry anyone unnecessarily. But she thought assembling her own little think-tank wouldn't be a bad idea. This was how she found herself in Cosette's room at one in the morning, surrounded by all of her friends. Azelma had been too afraid to come, since she still hadn't spent time with everyone at once, and Gavroche had offered to stay with her, so she wouldn't have to be alone. Eponine thought it was better this way, since she didn't want her siblings to know how dire the situation was. It was bad enough that all her friends were getting in on this.

"So let me get this straight," Bahorel was saying. "Your shitbag parents found out that you saved your sister from a literal human trafficker, and instead of being happy about it, they're pissed and want you to send her back?"

Eponine nodded. "Yeah. They don't give a shit about any of us, and they don't want Tholomyès as an enemy, so they're trying to redo their deal to sell Azelma."

"Well, why can't you just keep her here? She's safe here, isn't she?"

"For the moment, yeah, but my parents are willing to go through the courts in order to get her back. It's like Enjolras said– they're threatening to charge me with kidnapping."

Montparnasse whistled. "They're going through the courts? They must be desperate."

"I mean, would you want Tholomyès as an enemy if you could help it?"

"Good point."

"Didn't you get some receipts on them?" spoke up Grantaire. "Why don't you use those to prove that they're unfit parents, and sue for custody?"

"That's what I need help with." Eponine sighed. Here was the part she didn't want to admit. "See, I really don't know what I'm doing."

"Why not? Haven't you been arrested and stuff?" Everyone turned in unison to stare at Marius. He turned red and began to stutter. "I mean, I didn't mean to be rude. But I mean, your background, you know, you have…"

Courfeyrac put a hand on his shoulder. "Marius, shut up now."

"Okay."

Eponine gave him a stern look. "I have been arrested, yes. And I would probably fail a lot of background checks. But that doesn't mean I'm an expert on the legal system. I'm the plaintiff now, not the defendant. So I need advice."

"What, like legal advice?" Floréal looked at her, her face apprehensive. "I've never even been called in for jury duty."

"Honestly, whatever you have. I need all the help I can get right now."

"Enjolras is pre-law," pointed out Courfeyrac. "I bet he knows something."

"You're pre-law too!"

"Yeah, but you actually do your readings."

"I guess, but I don't have any real-life experience."

"You follow literally every case you can, and you spend at least three hours each day researching god-knows-what-all on your computer. And I mean, you even go to the law library to read the old case files, for goodness's sake. You have to know something."

"Well actually now that you mention it, this does remind me of a case I saw the other day…"

"See? You can help!"

They began to talk together, presumably discussing the details of the case. Eponine thought about scooting over to listen in, but before she could move, Cosette tapped her on the arm.

"I don't know if this is something you'd be interested in," she began hesitantly. Eponine shrugged.

"What is it?"

"Okay." Cosette clasped her hands in front of her, looking serious. "So, my dad has a lot of experience with, well, lots of stuff. He knows a lot about the law from both sides, and I'm pretty sure he could give you some good advice. I mean, he went through a situation sort of like yours when he adopted me, so it's not like he's some random guy. But if it's weird, I totally understand!"

"Wow." Eponine wasn't sure what else to say. This was above and beyond what she'd ask anyone to do, and certainly more than she'd ever expect. She knew that Cosette would go through with it if she accepted; she never said anything she didn't mean. But did she want to tie her up in all this? There was a reason she was only telling her friends the clean version of her life. Not only would it be way too much for Cosette to be expected to process, it could also be dangerous if her parents and their connections found out that she was helping. "I couldn't," she said.

"I see." Cosette's face fell just a bit, but she looked like she was trying to keep it neutral. "I guess it is a little bit of a weird thing to offer. I'm sorry."

"No, it's not that." Eponine sighed, half-frustrated with herself. How could she explain this? "It's not that I don't want your help; believe me, I really do. But my life is kinda shitty, you know? I don't want to make you deal with all that."

"Why not?"

Eponine checked Cosette's face to see if she was serious. Apparently, she was. "Well, I mean, it could be literally dangerous for you. I'm not sure you realize how fucked up my background is."

"I have a fucked up background too."

Eponine had never heard Cosette swear before. Somehow, it didn't seem as incongruous as it should have. Still, she thought it was a clue that this conversation was on a whole other level of serious now. She reached out a hesitant hand to touch Cosette's. "I know, and I don't want to minimize that, especially since I don't know the details of what you've been through. But isn't that all the more reason you should take care of yourself now? I don't want you getting hurt, especially because of me."

"But that's my choice." Cosette's voice was gentle, but assured. "Believe me, you're not forcing me into anything I don't want to do. Sure, something might happen to me, but I'm fully aware of the possibility, and I accept the risk. I want to help you. If you feel weird about it or anything, of course I'll back off, but you don't have to worry about me."

"That's easy for you to say, but I can't help worrying. You're too important to me."

Cosette's eyes went wide. "I'm important to you?"

Oh shit. That hadn't been what Eponine had meant to say at all. While it was true, she didn't necessarily want Cosette to know. Time for some damage control. "W-well, sure, I mean– you're my friend, you know?"

"Oh." Was it her imagination, or did Cosette look a little disappointed? No, probably her imagination.

"Look, I just don't want you or your dad to get hurt because of this. It's my problem, and the only one who should have to deal with the nasty parts is me."

"Now you know that's not true." Cosette stuck out her lower lip disapprovingly. "What are friends for? Your problems are mine. You know you'd say the same for everyone else."

She was right, of course. If any of her friends had been in this situation, Eponine would have done all she could to help them, regardless of danger. Still…

"You'll just promise to be careful?"

"Of course."

Eponine sighed. "I can't believe I'm doing this. Okay. I guess it's time for me to meet your dad."

"Oh, that's wonderful! I'm so glad!" Cosette gave her a quick hug, then sat back, smiling happily. "I'm sure you'll like him."

Eponine wasn't so optimistic, but she managed a small smile back. "I hope so."

/

When Cosette wanted to get something done, she was nothing less than efficient. The very next evening, she brought her dad to campus to meet with Eponine. Eponine was glad she'd done this; it was easier for her to go through with this whole asking-an-unknown-person-for-life-changing-advice thing if she didn't lose momentum. It wasn't that she was afraid, not really. She prided herself on being unflappable, and besides, if this was Cosette's dad, she could probably trust him. Still, she was inexplicably jittery as she made her way up the hill to Cosette's dorm.

She raised her hand to knock on the door, but before she could make contact, the door swung open to reveal Joly, beaming at her with innocent joy.

"You came!"

"Uh." Eponine blinked at him. This wasn't whom she'd been expecting to answer the door. "Of course I came. But why are you here?"

Joly pouted, looking like a dejected puppy. "You don't want me here?"

"No, you can be, I just don't remember telling you…?"

"Oh!" Joly grinned at her. "You told Enjolras, remember? And he told Courf, and then that was that. We decided we should come support you!"

"Who's w–"

"Come in, come in!" He drew her inside, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Eponine had no choice but to follow. She had to admit, his enthusiasm was cute, and it was doing a lot to soothe her nerves.

"Eponine!" Cosette jumped up from the couch to hug her. Eponine awkwardly returned the embrace.

"Here I am," she said, internally wincing at how silly that sounded. Fortunately, Cosette only smiled.

"We were all waiting for you! Here, come sit. My dad's parking right now, but he'll be here any second. Come on!" She led Eponine over to the couch and made her sit down, then gracefully flounced down beside her. Immediately, Jehan came over to sit down too, bearing a bouquet of folded paper flowers.

"This is for you," they said seriously. "You have to have it." They solemnly put the flowers into Eponine's hands, and she could see that they were all intricately folded from different scraps of colored paper. Making them all must have taken quite some time.

"Thank you," she said. "Are you sure you don't want to keep these, though? They're really nice."

"No!" Jehan closed her fingers over the flowers, a serious expression on their face. "They're for you. They're good luck. You have to keep them, okay?"

Eponine couldn't help smiling. Jehan was a little eccentric, but they were a good friend. She put her arm around them, and they snuggled up at her side like a kitten, cooing happily. Now comfortably situated, she looked around the room for the first time since she'd come in. It was true; her friends were all there. Now that she thought about it, this was the first time in awhile that they'd all been in the same place. What with midterms, and everyone's busy lives, they didn't often have a chance to spend time together. She wanted to make the most of it, but she didn't know how, and besides, this probably wasn't really the time or place. As if to underscore this point, a knock sounded at the door, and Cosette jumped up, looking excited.

"That's my dad!" She threw open the door and gestured with a flourish. "Eponine, I would like you to meet my dad. Dad, this is Eponine."

Mr. Fauchelevent came over to Eponine and extended his hand for her to shake. "It's good to finally meet you, Eponine. Please, call me Jean."

"Hi, Jean." Eponine looked down, suddenly shy. Usually, she wasn't one to be flustered when meeting new people, but Cosette's dad exuded such an air of such gravitas and quiet dignity that she felt as if she was in the presence of someone very important. Appearance-wise, he didn't look like Cosette, but the way he wore kindness in every feature– that, he definitely had in common with her. Belatedly, she realized she ought to have stood up or something, but it had been way too long since she'd been introduced to any adult worth standing up for, and she was a little out of practice. Fortunately, Jean didn't seem to mind.

"How are you doing?" he asked. "I hear it's midterm season again."

"Oh." Eponine tried not to grimace. "Well, I haven't had much of a chance to study, so…"

"It's not like you need to anyway," cut in Cosette. "You're so smart. Dad, did you hear she got an A in O-Chem? With _Faulkner_?"

"Really." Jean raised his eyebrows, looking impressed. Eponine felt the inexplicable urge to cover her face. What was she, _five_? She forced herself to look him in the eye and speak like a normal human being.

"It wasn't anything, I mean… the curve helped."

"Still, that's very impressive." Eponine made a noncommittal sort of sound, and he nodded at her seriously. "No, really. Cosette's told me a lot about you– you've got a lot on your plate, but you seem to handling it all admirably. You're much more focused than I was at your age, I'll tell you that."

Eponine told herself not to wonder exactly what it was Cosette had said. "What were you doing at my age?" she asked instead. Jean smiled at her calmly.

"Oh, I was in prison."

Eponine wasn't sure she'd heard right. "You were where?"

"State pen. Not the best period of my life, of course. But it's given me the opportunity to recreate my life, and I'm thankful every day for the new directions that I've been able to take." He smiled again, serene as ever, then turned to Cosette. "So, are you going to introduce me to the rest of your friends?"

While Eponine tried to wrap her head around the fact that Cosette's saintly dad was apparently not only an impromptu motivational speaker, but also an ex-convict, the rest of her friends came up next to her, having heard his last comment.

"Hello, sir!" Joly bounced up and pumped his hand enthusiastically. "I'm Joly. It's so nice to meet you! Did you know that you have a very firm handshake?"

"So I've been told."

Combeferre was next. "It's good to meet you, sir. I've heard a lot about you."

"Good things, I hope."

"Only the best."

They nodded at each other, smiling gravely. Eponine was willing to bet that before the night was over, they'd be engaged in some sort of deep conversation together. These two were kindred spirits if she'd ever seen them.

Musichetta and Bossuet came up next, and insisted on shaking both of Jean's hands in tandem. He looked a little confused by this, but went along with it, and they retreated, beaming. Seeing this, everyone else descended on him in a herd, and it was to his credit that he managed to keep them all straight. He really was like Cosette, Eponine thought; he'd won over all her friends just by introducing himself to them, and even little Jehan seemed comfortable with him already. This fact alone was enough to convince her that he was trustworthy. She had been apprehensive before, but she thought now that if anyone was going to be giving her advice, it might as well be him.

After her friends had introduced themselves and exchanged a few pleasantries, Eponine went to sit at the dining table with Cosette and Jean to discuss the issue at hand. She was ready to hear what Jean had to say, but she was also relieved that Cosette was there. It made all of this much less stressful. Of course, then there was the distinct possibility that Cosette might hear about her less-than-charming life and decide that she didn't want to have anything to do with her ever again. Eponine didn't think this would happen, but it was one more thing to be nervous about, and she was glad to be able to gauge Cosette's reactions in real time.

"So." Jean folded his hands on the table and looked at Eponine seriously. "How can I help you today?"

"Well, okay." Eponine took out her phone and pulled up a picture of Azelma. "This is my sister."

"She looks like you."

"Really? I don't think so."

"You're not identical, but I can tell you're related. You have the same nose, and your eyes are the same."

"Oh." Eponine touched her nose self-consciously. She knew she wasn't conventionally attractive by any means, and she'd grown to accept this, but being compared to her much prettier sister still gave her an unexpectedly warm feeling in her chest. "Well, thanks. Um, anyway, she's in trouble."

"Didn't you say she was living in your dorm now?"

"Yes, that's the trouble."

"Their parents are trying to get her back," explained Cosette. "It's tricky, because Eponine rescued her from them in the first place, but they think they have some sort of claim over her."

"Legally, I suppose they do." Jean pulled out his phone and began to search through his documents. "I know I have this somewhere… ah. Here." He held out the phone for Eponine and Cosette to look at, and they both bent over the table to see. "This is the legal code for parental rights over a minor. I practically memorized it when I was working to adopt Cosette. See, in this part it says that they do have parental rights as long as they aren't guilty of any abuse or neglect."

"They are, though."

"Of course. But we need to prove this to the court. Now, have charges been brought against them in the past for anything like this?"

"Unfortunately, no."

"Hmm." Jean scratched his chin. "Well, that leaves out precedent. Let's see. Do you have records of anything that might show that they don't have you or your siblings' best interests at heart?"

"Sort of."

"What do you mean?"

"My parents aren't good on documentation. Even if there were official papers, I don't think they'd be admissible, because my parents commit a lot of fraud. So we don't have any legally binding paperwork. No dental records, nothing."

"But?"

"I have some unofficial evidence. Personal statements. Recordings. Photos. Things like that."

"That could work." Jean thought for a minute. "We would have to play it right, but we could also use the lack of official paperwork as evidence. Your parents never got you vaccinations or checkups or anything, so that's a sign of neglect– something like that."

"Oh." Eponine had never thought of that. Vaguely, she knew that most parents took their children to the doctor and filed insurance for them and so on, but she had never known any other way of life, so the fact that her parents hadn't done any of these things hadn't registered as strange until now. "I guess you're right. By itself, any one of these things would be pretty weak evidence, but…"

"Together, they could build up a compelling case." Jean smiled at her. "You got it."

Eponine smiled back. She liked Jean's straightforward manner, and the way he didn't try to sidestep around what was happening. Actually, this was something else he had in common with Cosette. Both of them were exactly the kind of people she valued most. She cracked her knuckles, then immediately shot a guilty glance over at Cosette, knowing that the sound bothered the other girl. Fortunately, she didn't seem to notice, just continued to scribble away on her yellow legal pad. Finally, she looked up, bright-eyed, and took one of Eponine's hands in her own.

"Okay. Let's build this case!"

/

Eponine, Jean, and Cosette continued to work far into the night. By the time they'd reached a good stopping place, Eponine had already gone through two cups of coffee, and their friends were asleep around them, lying in various postures and attitudes all over the floor. Only Enjolras was still awake, typing away feverishly on his laptop, and blasting his music so loudly that it was audible even through his headphones. Eponine knew from experience that he would be at this for quite awhile longer, and there was no point in disturbing him to ask him to walk back with her. Instead, she turned to Cosette.

"I hate to impose, but would it be all right if I stayed here tonight?"

Cosette gave her a lovely smile. "Of course. I was going to offer anyway."

Eponine didn't want to read into this (she was definitely just being polite– after all, the rest of their friends were all here too), but she couldn't help thinking of the last time she'd stayed over at Cosette's place, and how they'd woken up together in a tangle of blankets, her head tucked into the crook of Cosette's neck, and Cosette's arms firmly wrapped around her waist. Neither of them had talked about it afterwards, but Eponine had certainly remembered every detail. It didn't have to mean anything; people platonic-cuddled all the time, especially within her group of friends. Nevertheless, her heart constricted every time she thought about it (which was embarrassingly often). Now, it looked like tonight might be a repeat performance, and she didn't know whether to feel pleased or scared. Sure, it was nice to snuggle with Cosette, but she knew they were coming from very different directions, and she couldn't help but feel creepy. Plus, the whole impossible-desire thing was enough to put a crimp in anyone's style.

She was shaken out of her reverie by Cosette, brushing past her to walk her dad to the door. "Thanks for coming," she was saying. "We all appreciate it so much."

"I appreciate having the opportunity to help." Jean tugged on his coat and smiled at her, a warm and lovely smile filled with so much kindness and pure affection that Eponine felt as if she should look away. This sort of interaction wasn't made for people like her. Still, though, she knew she should thank Jean for helping her, so she went over to him and held out her hand to shake.

"Thank you again for all the help," she said.

"I'm happy to do it."

"No, really." Eponine wasn't sure where this was coming from, but it was too late to stop herself now. "It means more to me than you know, and you didn't have to help, so thank you. I really… just, thank you. So much."

Jean smiled at her, and she could practically feel the warmth from where she was standing. "You're welcome."

He and Cosette embraced again before she sent him on his way, making him promise that he'd be back again soon. It was cute; Eponine had never seen such a loving interaction between a parent and a child before. She almost felt envious. Never in her life had she experienced such a thing, and she knew she never would. Still, she was happy for Cosette. If anyone deserved happiness, it was her. Pushing away her negative thoughts, she steered her mind back to the situation at hand.

"Thanks for helping me," she said. "It means a lot."

Once upon a time, it would have been unthinkable for her to say this. Now she spoke with no hesitation at all. Cosette might have realized this, because she reached out to squeeze her hand, smiling that same lovely smile.

"It's no problem. That's what I'm here for, remember?"

Eponine hoped she wasn't blushing, but unfortunately, she thought she probably was. "W-well, thanks anyway," she stuttered out. "I, um, I'm going to sleep."

If Cosette had been anyone else, she probably would have thought Eponine was being rude. But Cosette was herself, and she understood, because that was what she did.

"Go ahead and make yourself comfortable," she said. "I'm just going to make sure Enjolras goes to sleep at some point. I'll be along." Then, without any warning, she stepped up close and kissed Eponine on the cheek. It was a totally platonic, sisterly, friendship kiss of course– there was no doubt about that. But Eponine still saw stars behind her eyes, and she had to take a solid minute before she was able to say anything.

"Good, uh, goodnight," she faltered. "See you. Night."

Before Cosette could say anything, or possibly ask where her brain had gone, she made her way over to the bedroom, trying to remember how to walk. Friendship kiss or not, there was no doubt about it; she wasn't sleeping tonight. Why did love have to be so difficult? Her family life might be messed up, but at least she could probably handle that. This, though? She had no idea.

Sure enough, once she was in bed, she wasn't able to fall asleep. No matter how still she lay, she couldn't stop the thoughts racing through her brain. Usually, it only took her about ten or fifteen minutes to go to sleep, and she thought that given how tired she was now, she should be able to knock out right away. But her brain seemed to have other ideas. She wasn't sure how long she lay there, but she was wide awake when Cosette came tip-toeing into the room to go to bed. She was taking great pains to be quiet, and Eponine thought it would be only fair to pretend to be asleep. Besides, she was still too flustered to talk right now anyway.

Apparently, her acting was believable, because Cosette didn't seem to notice anything. She merely climbed up and tucked herself into the bed beside Eponine, settling the blanket over them both as she lay down. After a pause, she snuggled closer and settled her arm around Eponine's waist. Eponine thought her heart was going to burst. It was all she could do to lie still and regulate her breathing so that Cosette wouldn't know she was awake, or worse, get freaked out and take her arm away. It was hard to be here like this, but she thought it would be even harder not to be. Love might be difficult, but it was also warm, and just for now, it felt like home. Tomorrow, she would have to remember to subdue her feelings. Tonight, though, that could wait. She felt her entire body relax, safe and drowsy, with Cosette's soft breath against her hair. So what if she was being self-indulgent in letting herself have this? For this moment only, maybe it was okay to let herself be held. As she drifted off to sleep, her last thought was that this was the only place she wanted to be.

/notes/

Anxiety attacks and depression and stuff (not too bad, but sort of?)

also I sort of mentioned child abuse/neglect, but I don't think it's very ! though


End file.
